LE.TTY 


LUCV 
CLEAVE.R 
MCELROY 


JULETTY 


JULETTY 

A    STORT    OF.... 
OLD    KENTUCKT 

BY 

LUCY  CLEAVER   McELROY 


NEW    YORK 

THOMAS    Y.   CROWELL   &    CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  BV 
THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  CO. 


ALLOW  ME, 

Dear  ffatber, 


To  dedicate  to  you  —  the  embodiment 
of  all  Kentucky  excellences  —  this  little 
story  of  Kentucky  life, 

YOUR  DAUGHTER, 

L.  C.  M. 


2137188 


Contents 

CHAPTER  FACE 

I.    IN  THE  PENNYRILE n 

II.    IN  WHICH  I  SNUFF  THE  WIND  ....  25 

III.  IN  WHICH  I  FIND  OTHER  GAME    ...  43 

IV.  IN  WHICH  I  WIN  ONE  GAME     ....  61 

V.    IN  WHICH  I  HEAR  PERSONAL  REMINIS- 
CENCES OF  A  PENNYRILE  BATTLE     .  83 

VI.    IN    WHICH     THE    GAME    TRAPS    THE 

HUNTER 119 

VII.    IN  WHICH  I  JOIN  A  MAN  HUNT    ...  131 

VIII.    IN  WHICH  FIRST  BLOOD  is  DRAWN  .    .  151 

IX.    IN  WHICH  "BUDDY"  PROVES  GAME  .    .  171 

X.    IN   WHICH    HUNTER    AND    GAME    ARE 

SNARED 185 

XI.    IN  WHICH  I  THINK  THE  GAME  WELL 

WORTH  THE  CANDLE 213 

7 


Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

XII.    IN  WHICH  I  TURN  Fox  HUNTER  .    .    .    223 

XIII.  IN  WHICH  THE  GAME  is  TAKEN  RED- 

HANDED  249 

XIV.  IN  WHICH  THE  DISTILLER  RECEIVES  A 

LIFE  SENTENCE 269 


List  of  Illustrations 

DRAWINGS  BY  W.  E.  MEARS 
"HE  LOWERED  His  RIFLE" Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

THE  PENNYRILE  DISTRICT 20 

THE  BLACKSMITH  SHOP 34 

"  I   AROSE   AND   WALKED   TO   THE   DOOR   AND 

LOOKED  OUT  UPON  THE  NIGHT"     ....  38 

JULETTY  AMONG  THE  VINES 48 

THE  JUG  STUMP 51 

"  YOU'RE    ALL    RIGHT,  JULETTY  :    HOL*  ONTER 

YER  PUMMEL" 80 

MYRTLEDENE 86 

"THAR  SHE  IS" 122 

A  MAN  HUNT 144 

"MID  THE   SILENCE  OF  THE  WOODLAND  THE 

MEN  STOOD  MOTIONLESS" 148 


List  'of  Illustrations 

FACING    PAGE 

BUDDY'S  WAGON 162 

"  A  HEAVY  BEAM  FROM  THE  CABIN  ROOF  LAY 

ACROSS  HIS  CHEST" 216 

THE  FOX  HUNT 228 

OLD  BUCK,  PREACHER 235 

"JERRY,  TAKE  A  PLANK  OUT  OF  THE  FLOOR 

THERE "  262 


10 


CHAPTER  I 

In  the  Pennyrile 


CHAPTER  I 

IN  THE  PENNYRILE 

"THAR,  dam  yer! 

"  Take  thet,  an'  nex'  time  doncher  be  so  dam 
smart ! " 

The  words  were  passionate  enough,  but  they 
were  uttered  in  the  cool  drawl  of  the  Kentucky 
mountaineer. 

When  I  heard  them  I  was  leaning  idly  in  the 
doorway  of  a  little  Mount  Vernon  drug-store ; 
across  the  street,  immediately  in  front  of  the 
open  court-house,  stood  the  speaker,  a  moun- 
tain man  clad  in  brown  jeans,  coarse  boots,  and 
slouch  hat. 

His  inevitable  rifle  was  at  his  shoulder,  and 
I  judged  by  his  aim  that  he  meant  murder  for 
some  one  in  my  vicinity,  so  I  glanced  about  me 
for  the  offender. 

Bang  !  !     Puff ! 

A  tiny  line  of  smoke  drifted  lazily  from  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun. 

13 


Juletty 

Instinctively,  but  unconsciously,  my  left  hand 
grasped  my  right  elbow,  though  my  eyes  were 
still  on  the  mountaineer. 

He  lowered  his  rifle,  dropped  the  empty 
smoking  hull,  with  rattle  and  snap  slipped  a 
fresh  one  in  place,  and  stood  looking  uncer- 
tainly forward,  ready  for  a  second  shot  if 
expedient. 

I  stood  there  half  smiling  at  the  man's  cool- 
ness, till  a  warm  moisture  attracted  my  atten- 
tion to  my  fingers,  which  I  found  dripping 
blood  ;  then  for  the  first  time  I  knew  I  had 
been  shot. 

Simultaneously  with  the  discovery  a  great 
pain  enveloped  me  as  in  a  shroud,  and  there  rose 
in  my  heart  the  hot,  helpless  rage  of  the  inno- 
cent bystander  who  .has  stopped  another  man's 
bullet ;  I  had  never  seen  the  mountaineer  be- 
fore, so  of  course  he  had  not  meant  the  shot  for 
me.  My  right  arm  hung  useless  beside  me,  but 
with  my  left  hand  I  managed  to  secure  my 
revolver  from  my  hip  pocket,  and  lunging  to- 
ward him  I  fired  shot  after  shot  at  the  tall, 
gaunt,  awkward  figure  striding  up  the  oppo- 
site street,  never  hastening  nor  even  looking 
back. 

14 


In  the  Pennyrile 

My  aim  was  uncertain  because  of  the  gray 
mist  that  in  the  last  few  minutes  seemed  to 
have  settled  everywhere ;  in  fact,  all  things 
were  against  me,  for  suddenly  the  very  pave- 
ment arose  and  smote  me  in  the  face. 

"  Jim  Whiter  shot  'im  ;  I  knowed  'e'd  do 
it." 

"  Me  too  ;  I  been  erspectin'  it  for  er  couple 
er  days.  I  cain't  think  whut  he  waited  so  long 
fer."  This  was  in  a  tone  of  mild  wonder  and 
reproach  ;  then  the  speaker  added  :  "  Doc  says 
'e  wont  never  have  good  use  er  thet  arm  no 
mo' ;  nothin'  but  er  little  bit  er  hole,  nother. 
But  some  folks  takes  things  pow'ful  hard." 

The  doctor's  verdict  and  the  sneer  roused 
me,  and  I  struggled  up  to  find  I  had  been  re- 
moved from  that  treacherous  pavement  to  the 
hard  bed  in  my  room,  and  my  wound  dressed ; 
the  big,  hearty  doctor  sat  beside  me  and  urged 
me  to  be  still,  but  I  wanted  to  appear  as  in- 
different as  I  knew  those  men  would  in  my 
place,  so  sat  up  and  asked  carelessly : 

"  Who  was  that  fool  fellow  shooting  at  any- 
way ?  " 

A  roar  of  laughter  followed,  and  some  one 
said  : 

15 


Juletty 

"  By  hell !  you  air  er  greenhorn  !  Doncher 
know  Jim  done  it  er  purpose?" 

"  Why,  man,  thet  still  yer  raided  day  fore  yis- 
tiddy  wuz  Jim's  sister's  brother-in-law's  still, 
an'  er  cose  he  felt  boun'  an '  compelled  ter  git 
even  with  yer  some  way.  He  could  er  killed  yer 
jes  ez  easy  ez  fallin'  off  er  log,  but  he  didn'  want 
ter.  So's  he  didn'  want  ter  do  thet  he  jes  put 
'is  mark  on  yer  fer  life;  Jim's  er  gittin'  tender 
hearterder  ever  year  uv  his  life ;  'e'll  git  so 
arter  er  while  he  won't  kill  nothin'." 

The  man  sighed,  regretful  for  Jim's  weak- 
ness. 

"  Heaven  help  the  victims  of  his  tenderness !  " 
I  said.  "  But  I  must  see  him  at  once  ;  I  wish  to 
talk  with  him.  A  thing  like  this  is  monstrous. 
I  shall  get  right  up  from  here,  and  go  around 
to  the  jail  and  interview  him." 

"  Jail ! " 

"Jim  in  jail!!" 

'!  God,  man,  you're  clean  crazy  ;  nobody  ain't 
er  goin'  ter  tackle  Jim  when  he's  got  blood  in 
his  eye.  'Sides  thet,  he's  home  by  now,  and 
the  devil  and  all  his  artillery  cain't  oust  him 
fum  than" 

"Oh,  hell!     Jim  in  jail!" 

16 


In  the  Pennyrile 

It  was  true ;  though  marshal,  sheriff,  and 
men  in  large  numbers  had  stood  within  twenty 
steps  of  the  man  at  the  time  of  the  shooting, 
not  one  had  lifted  his  hand  to  detain  him,  and 
he  had  quietly  walked  to  his  horse  at  the  rear 
of  the  temple  of  law  and  order,  mounted,  and 
with  his  death-dealing  rifle  across  his  lap,  ridden 
slowly  out  of  town. 

This  the  big  mountain  doctor  told  me  after 
he  had  administered  an  opiate,  and  driven  the 
men  from  my  room. 

He  then  drew  the  blinds,  arranged  my  pil- 
lows comfortably,  and  seated  himself  beside 
the  bed. 

"  How  long  you  been  in  the  mountains,  Mr. 
Burton?" 

"  Only  a  few  weeks." 

"  Ah,  now  your  mistake  about  that  shot  is 
accounted  for ;  a  very  natural  mistake,  under- 
stand me ;  had  you  been  here  longer  you 
would  have  known  that  a  United  States  mar- 
shal, like  yourself,  is  always  more  or  less  likely 
to  be  a  target  for  a  mountaineer's  rifle.  We 
are  law-abiding  citizens,  understand  me,  but 
when  a  man  interferes  with  our  business  he  is 
pretty  certain  to  hear  something  go  off.  It  is 
2  17 


Juletty 

a  sense  of  honor,  sir,  understand  me  :  the  law 
must  not  stand  between  a  man  and  his  per- 
sonal enemy." 

He  was  talking  in  a  monotone  against  time, 
and  I  knew  he  was  trying  to  quiet  me  so  I 
might  fall  asleep,  but  the  opium  was  just  in 
that  stage  of  effect  to  arouse  resistance,  and  I 
insisted  on  doing  a  part  of  the  talking, myself. 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  your  face  is  familiar  to 
me ;  I  seem  to  remember  having  seen  you 
somewhere  years  ago." 

"  Very  likely,  young  man,  very  likely  ;  I  have 
been  in  nearly  every  county  in  the  State  of 
Kentucky." 

He  made  the  statement  proudly,  as  one 
might  announce  a  just  completed  circuit  of  the 
globe,  then  continued  : 

"  I  once  knew  a  man  named  Jack  Burton, 
who  married  a  Miss  Hamilton  of  Warren 
County — out  seven  miles  from  Bowling  Green." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  I  interrupted ;  "  he  was  my 
father." 

"  So    I    supposed,  by  your   resemblance   to 
him.     Well,  your  Grandfather  Hamilton  was  a 
remarkable  man  ;  Old  Alec  Hamilton,  they  call 
him  now  •    he  was  a  very  remarkable  man." 
is 


In  the  Pennyrile 

"  He  certainly  was,"  I  answered,  "  the  most 
original  man  I  have  ever  seen;  why,  I  was  only 
eleven  years  old  the  first  time  I  saw  him,  and 
I  remember  it  as  though  it  had  been  yester- 
day." 

The  doctor  was  wise  in  his  business,  and 
knew  I  must  talk,  so  suggested  that  I  tell  him 
what  had  made  the  meeting  so  memorable.  De- 
lighted to  have  the  chance  to  do  so,  I  began 
the  story : 

"  If  you  remember  him  at  all,  doctor,  you  re- 
member that  he  was  a  curious  man ;  curious  in 
person,  manner,  habits,  and  thoughts. 

"  He  was  six  feet  two  inches  in  height  and 
tipped  the  Fairbanks  needle  at  the  two  hun- 
dred notch  ;  I  believe  he  had  the  largest  head 
and  the  brightest  eyes  I  have  ever  seen.  That 
big  head  of  his  was  covered  by  a  dense  growth 
of  auburn  hair,  and  as  every  hair  stood  sepa- 
rately erect  it  looked  like  a  big  sunburned 
chestnut  burr;  his  eyes  twinkled  and  snapped, 
sparkled  and  glowed,  like  blue  blazes,  though 
on  occasion  they  could  beam  as  softly  and  ten- 
derly through  their  tears  as  those  of  some  love- 
sick woman.  H  is  language  was  a  curious  idiom  ; 
the  result  of  college  training  and  after  associ- 
19 


Juletty 

ation  with  negroes  and  illiterate  neighbors.  Of 
course  as  a  child  I  did  not  know  his  peculiarities, 
and  looked  forward  with  much  pleasure  to  see- 
ing him  and  my  grandmother,  of  whose  many 
virtues  I  had  heard.  My  father  had  expatiated 
much  on  the  beauty  of  my  grandfather's  farm 
— three  thousand  broad  acres  (you  have  doubt- 
less noticed,  doctor,  that  Kentucky  acres  are 
always  broad,  about  twice  as  broad  as  the  aver- 
age acre)  in  the  heart  of  the  Pennyrile  District. 
As  good  land,  he  said,  as  a  crow  ever  flew  over ; 
red  clay  for  subsoil,  and  equal  to  corn  crops  in 
succession  for  a  hundred  years.  But  I  am 
going  to  tell  you,  doctor,  of  my  visit  as  a  child 
to  my  grandfather.  I  had  never  seen  him,  and 
felt  a  little  natural  shrinking  from  the  first 
meeting.  My  mother  had  only  been  dead  a  few 
weeks  and — well,  in  short,  my  young  heart  was 
pretty  full  of  conflicting  emotions  when  I  drew 
near  the  old,  red  brick  house.  He  was  not  ex- 
pecting me,  and  I  had  to  walk  from  the  rail- 
way station.  It  was  midsummer,  and  the  old 
gentleman  sat,  without  hat,  coat,  or  shoes,  out- 
side his  front  door.  As  I  drew  near  he  called 
out  threateningly: 
"  '  Who  are  you  ? ' 

20 


In  the  Pennyrile 

" '  Why,  don't  you  know  me  ?'  I  asked  pleas- 
antly. 

"  '  No,  by  Jacks  !  How  in  hell  should  I  know 
you  ?  '  he  thundered. 

"  There  was  nothing  repulsive  about  his  pro- 
fanity ;  falling  from  his  lips  it  seemed  guile- 
less as  cooings  of  sucking  doves,  so  nothing 
daunted,  I  cried  out  cheerily  as  one  who  brings 
good  news : 

"  '  I'm  Jack  Burton,  your  grandson  ! ' 

" '  What  yer  want  here  ? ' 

" '  Why,  I've  come  to  see  you,  grandfather,' 
I  answered  quiveringly. 

"  '  Well,  dam  yer,  take  er  look  an'  go  home  ! ' 
he  roared. 

" '  I  will ! '  I  shouted  indignantly,  and  more 
deeply  hurt  than  ever  before  or  since,  I  turned 
and  ran  from  him. 

"  Then  almost  before  I  knew  it  he  had  me  in 
his  great,  strong  arms,  his  tears  and  kisses  beat- 
ing softly  down  like  raindrops  on  my  face, 
while  he  mumbled  through  his  sobs : 

" '  Why,  my  boy,  don't  you  know  your  old 
grandfathers  ways?  Eliza's  son!  First-born 
of  my  first-born,  you  are  more  welcome  than 
sunshine  after  a  storm.  Never  mind  what 


Juletty 

grandfather  says,  little  man ;  just  always  re- 
member he  loves  you  like  a  son.' 

"  He  had  by  that  time  carried  me  back  to  his 
door;  there  all  at  once  his  whole  manner 
changed,  and  putting  me  on  my  feet,  he  cried  : 
'  Thar,  yer  damned  lazy  little  rascal,  yer  expec' 
me  ter  carry  yer  eround  like  er  nigger?  Use 
yer  own  legs  and  find  yer  grandmother.' 

"  But  he  could  not  frighten  me  then,  nor  ever 
any  more  ;  I  had  seen  his  heart,  and  it  was  the 
heart  of  a  poet,  a  lover,  a  gentleman,  do  what 
he  might  to  hide  it." 

The  doctor  had  allowed  me  to  have  my  head, 
and  talk  in  my  rambling,  reminiscent  fashion, 
and  agreed  in  my  estimate  of  my  grand- 
sire. 

"  Yessir,  just  like  him  for  the  world  !  "  he 
cried. 

"  I  was  at  his  house  one  day  when  the  ugliest 
man  in  Warren  County  came  out ;  he  did  not 
wait  to  greet  him,  but  shouted,  '  My  God, 
man,  don't  you  wish  ugliness  was  above  par? 
You'd  be  er  Crcesus.'  "  I  laughed  slowly ;  the 
drug  was  soothing  me  in  spite  of  myself,  and 
the  doctor  continued :  "  Now  you  admire  that 
crotchety  old  man  so  much,  suppose  you  make 

23 


In  the  Fennyrile 

him  a  second  visit  ?  I  have  an  idea  the  moun 
tains  are  not  wholesome  for  you  right  now ; 
that  is,  your  wound  would  heal  more  quickly 
elsewhere,  understand  me ;  and  with  this 
thought  I  suggest  that  when  your  fever  passes 
away  you  will  mount  the  iron  horse  and  go 
down  to  the  Pennyrile  for  a  change.  Your 
grandmother  will  nurse  you  to  health  and 
your  grandfather  will  furnish  you  entertain- 
ment ;  in  fact,  it  will  be  the  very  best  thing  for 
you,  understand  me." 

I  made  no  reply,  and  I  suppose  he  thought 
me  asleep,  for  he  arose  and  tipped  ponderously 
across  the  room.  The  motion  thoroughly 
awakened  me,  and  turning  over  I  asked  with 
lively  interest,  "  Doctor,  who  was  the  strange 
lady  in  the  drugstore  this  morning  ?  She  does 
not  belong  in  this  country,  I  know  by  her 
manner,  to  say  nothing  of  her  clothes.  I  can- 
not describe  her,  for  she  was  so  heavily  veiled  I 
could  not  see  her  face ;  but  as  she  stood  at  the 
counter  I  could  see  a  tiny  curl  of  auburn  hair 
lying  against  the  most  beautiful,  creamy  neck 
I  ever  saw — I — I — "  I  was  too  nearly  asleep 
to  say  anything  further,  but  as  in  a  dream  I 
heard  the  doctor  growl,  "  Shot  twice  in  one 
23 


Juletty 

day;  but  Cupid's  wound  will  help  to  combat 
Jim's  bullet." 

I  slept  heavily,  and  yet  was  always  dreaming 
that  I  had  the  right  to  jealously  kiss  away  the 
caressing  curl  from  that  beautiful,  beautiful 
neck. 


CHAPTER  II 

In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 


CHAPTER   II 

IN   WHICH   I   SNUFF  THE  WIND 

"  A  LITTLE  child  shall  lead  them." 
Certainly  there  comes  a  time  in  every  man's 
life  when  his  docility  is  such  that  even  a  little 
child  might  lead  him  ;  this  came  to  me  in  the 
first  week  after  I  was  wounded.  I  obeyed  the 
least  command  the  big  doctor  laid  upon  me, 
and  in  return  he  did  his  best  to  find  out  the 
identity  and  whereabouts  of  the  lady  of  the 
auburn  curl,  but  so  utterly  did  he  fail  that  he 
finally  insisted  she  was  a  myth  of  the  opium 
conjurer.  I  knew  better,  and  knew  also  that  I 
should  never  be  happy  till  I  once  more  saw 
her,  and  to  better  advantage.  Nevertheless  I 
was  plastic  in  the  doctor's  hands,  and  allowed 
him  to  pack  my  grip,  make  me  ready,  and  ship 
me  to  my  grandmother  for  the  nursing  I 
needed.  I  can  never  repay  him  for  this;  it 
laid  the  foundation-stone  of  my  life's  hap- 
piness. 


Juletty 

Slipping  through  tunnels  or  climbing  the 
crests  of  the  mountains,  catching  glimpses  of 
gorgeous  vistas  of  autumn  colors,  we  left  the 
rough,  mountainous  portions  of  Kentucky  and 
rolled  into  the  smooth,  level  prospects  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  State.  It  was  hard  to 
believe  that  so  great  a  difference  physically 
could  exist  in  the  same  State ;  but  the  pecu- 
liarity I  found  was  not  confined  to  the  land, 
it  was  quite  as  marked  in  the  people,  and  my 
opportunities  for  character  study  in  the  next 
few  months  were  more  than  delightful. 

When  we  arrived  at  Bowling  Green  I  gath- 
ered together  my  belongings  that  I  might  the 
more  readily  alight  at  the  next  station — Rich 
Pond. 

As  I  had  sent  no  notice  of  my  visit  I  had  to 
walk  from  the  railway  station  to  the  farm- 
house,  and  as  it  was  only  a  mile  I  was  glad  ®f 
the  chance  to  stretch  my  legs,  though  my 
grandmother  was  shocked  that  I  had  so  ex- 
erted myself,  and  to  please  her  I  was  forced  to 
lie  on  a  sofa  till  supper-time. 

God  bless  an  old-fashioned  woman  ! 

She  is  a  solace  and  joy  to  every  man  who 
comes  in  contact  with  her,  though  she  does 
28 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

think  there  is  no  panacea  like  a  good  sofa  and 
"lying  down." 

I  saw  nothing  of  my  grandfather  till  we 
entered  the  dining-room  ;  he  greeted  me 
warmly,  made  me  welcome,  and  asked  after 
my  father.  "  How  is  the  old  man?"  he  said. 
"  He  has  given  you  a  stepmother  at  last,  has 
he?  What  sorter  woman  is  she?" 

"  Oh,  I  scarcely  know;  she  is  a  little  thing," 
I  answered  cautiously;  "she  is  only  five  feet 
high,  so  there  is  not  much  of  her." 

"  God,"  he  said,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling  and 
his  big  head  wagging,  "  that  don't  tell  me 
nothin'.  Ain't  much  uv  er  wild-cat  nother, 
but  v.  hut  thar  is  is  hell.  Whut's  matter  with 
that  arm  ?  Moonshiner's  rifle,  hey  ?  Well, 
I'm  afeered  yer  air  out  uv  ther  fryin'  pan  inter 
ther  fire.  Thar's  er  power  of  moonshine  licker 
sold  in  this  deestrick ;  an'  ther  still  that  makes 
it  can't  be  foun'  nother." 

I  pricked  up  my  ears,  distended  my  nostrils, 
and  snuffed  the  wind,  eagerly  demanding  that 
he  tell  me  all  about  it. 

"  Nothin'  ter  tell,"  he  said  gruffly. 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  there  is  such  a 
thing?" 

29 


Juletty 

"  Great  Lord,  boy,  how  do  you  know  ther 
sun's  er  shinin'?  I  know  thar's  er  'licit  still 
eround  hyar  cause  I  see  ther  consequences — 
niggers  drunk  ever'  night  in  ther  week,  all  ther 
country  breakdowns  endin'  in  er  drunken  row, 
an'  er  jug  an'  er  half  dollar  in  ther  right  place 
gittin'  yer  ther  stuff  to  git  in  the  same  fix. 
Want  any  more  evidence  ?  " 

"  That  is  sufficient,"  I  said  dryly  ;  "  but  has 
no  effort  been  made  to  break  the  business  up 
and  bring  the  offenders  to  justice  ?  " 

"  Oh,  some,  some,"  and  he  chuckled  at  the 
remembrance  of  it.  "  Thar  wuz  three  United 
States  marshals  come  er  skylarkin'  round  turn- 
in'  their  noses  up  like  they  smelt  somethin'. 
But  if  they  smelt  it  they  didn't  stay  ter  run  it 
ter  ground.  Cose  they  all  come  right  here  ter 
my  house  an'  stayed ;  warn't  no  place  else  fer 
'em  ter  go,  an'  I  was  very  glad  ter  have  'em. 
Well,  the  fust  one  wuz  er  pooty  nice  sorter 
chap — perdigous  fond  uv  er  hoss.  Never  wuz 
er  day  he  didn't  want  ter  go  out  '  fer  er  can- 
ter,' he  said,  till  I  told  him  er  gentleman's  hoss 
didn't  know  how  ter  canter,  an'  er  regular 
saddle  hoss  wouldn't  do  nothin'  but  runnin' 
walk,  an'  wouldn't  be  caught  dead  er  parkin'. 
30 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

Well,  that  seemed  ter  teach  him  some  sense, 
an*  one  evenin'  he  struck  out  through  ther 
woods  in  ez  pooty  er  walk  ez  er  saddler  ever 
hit ;  but  he  come  back  in  lessen  er  hour,  an' 
he'd  lef  off  ther  walk  an'  wuz  pintedly  er  run- 
nin'.  Cose  I  went  out  ter  ther  hoss  lot  ter  meet 
'im  an'  ask  'im  whut  in  hell  wuz  ther  matter  ; 
he  was  so  blamed  winded  he  couldn't  speak, 
but  he  jes  stuck  'is  hat  at  me.  I  took  it  an' 
looked  it  over,  an'  ther  wuz  two  as  clean  little 
bullet  holes  in  ther  crown  ez  yer  ever  saw.  He 
said  nex'  mornin'  that  he  heered  two  shots  in 
ther  bushes,  an*  would  er  got  down  an*  ex- 
amined into  ther  affair,  but  they  skeered  his 
hoss  so  bad  that  he  run  clar  home  'thout  stop- 
pin'.  Cose  I  knowed  that  wuz  er  darned  lie ; 
that  hoss  warn't  skeered  uv  no  gun,  fer  he  wuz 
foalded,  an'  raised,  an'  broke  right  hyar  in  ol' 
Kaintucky.  Well,  he  had  Mitch  ter  drive  'im 
ter  Bowling  Green  nex'  mornin',  an'  ther  nex' 
time  I  heered  fum  him — last  time,  too — he 
wuz  back  in  New  York  whar  he  b'longed. 
Well,  the  nex'  one  come  fum  Tennessee,  whar 
he'd  had  er  lot  uv  practice  ketchin'  'licit  still- 
ers ;  he  wuz  er  sorter  dandy,  dressed  fine  ez 
Friday.  My  neighbors  air  allus  quick  ter  see  a 
31 


Juletty 

pint,  an'  treat  stylish  folks  in  style,  so  ther 
very  mornin'  after  he  landed  they  sent  over  er 
nigger  rigged  UP  m  er  swaller-tailed  coat.  He 
come  out  ter  see  whut  wuz  wanted,  an'  ther 
nigger  bowed  like  er  French  dancin'  marster, 
an'  handed  him  er  card  on  er  silver  waiter,  an' 
the  card  contained  a  promise  ter  change  his 
silk  necktie  to  er  hemp  one  in  lessen  twenty- 
four  hours  lessen  he  went  back  whar  he  come 
fum.  So  he  wandered  away,  too.  When  the 
third  one  come — a  yaller-headed  little  feller 
fum  Philadelphy — he  only  staid  long  enough 
ter  jes  hear  about  ther  others  an'  then  he  fol- 
lered  'em.  That's  erbout  all  ther  sperience  we 
had  with  States  marshals.  Would  yer  like  fer 
me  ter  advertise  that  you  air  in  that  business, 
Jack?"  His  eyes  twinkled  teasingly,  though 
he  added,  "  Dam  er  child  er  mine  that's 
erfeered ! " 

I  was  silent  a  moment ;  I  wanted  a  thought 
before  answering  :  "  I  am  not  badly  frightened, 
but  it  might  help  me  if  you  keep  it  a  secret 
that  I  am  a  marshal." 

"  All  right,  sir,  all  right  ;  I  am  jez  ez  shamed 
uv  it  ez  you  air.  But  I  wanter  tell  yer,  young 
man,  right  hyar  an'  now,  that  while  I  am  er  law- 
32 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

abidin'  citizen  myself,  an'  would  uphold  my 
Government  with  my  blood  if  need  be,  I  won't 
have  no  child  uv  mine  interferin'  with  my 
neighbors.  Er  man's  business  is  his  own  af- 
fair, an'  I'm  satisfied  even  the  Government 
can  be  too  all-fired  perticular  er  inquirin'  inter 
it." 

Pushing  back  his  chair,  he  rose  from  the  table 
as  if  fretted  by  the  subject ;  he  did  not,  how- 
ever, forget  to  be  hospitable,  and  suggested  that 
I  accompany  him  to  his  mule  lot  on  his  usual 
daily  visit.  I  gladly  accepted  his  invitation,  and 
having  lighted  our  pipes  we  strolled  leisurely 
out  to  lean  with  arms  akimbo  on  the  rail  fence 
that  enclosed  the  lot  and  discuss  the  merits 
of  the  bay  and  sorrel  hybrids,  fat,  sleek,  and 
frisky,  that  seemed  bent  on  destroying  each 
other  in  their  wild  frolics. 

A  scrawny,  frecklefaced,  bowlegged  mulatto 
with  a  huge  feed  basket  was  dispensing  supper 
to  the  animals ;  he  was  a  small  man,  and  I  could 
but  feel  anxious  for  his  safety  when  now  and 
then  some  near-by  mule  would  lash  out  with 
both  heels.  I  expressed  the  fear  to  my  grand- 
father, but  he  laughingly  replied  : 

"  No  danger  in  ther  worl' !  That  little  nigger 
3  33 


Juletty 

might  feed  'em  for  ther  nex'  forty  years  an' 
he'd  never  git  er  kick;  they're  sorter  half 
brothers  anyhow.  Didn't  yer  know  the  Lord 
Ermighty  made  er  nigger  an'  er  mule  ther 
same  day  ?  " 

I  passed  over  his  question,  and  trying  to  be 
business,  asked  : 

"  What  will  you  make  on'  this  lot  ?  They  are 
fine  ones." 

He  had  no  time  to  reply.  The  little  mulatto 
laughed  and  said  : 

"  Marse  Alec  won't  make  nothin'  on  'em ! 
He's  ben  er  feedin'  these  mules  fer  ten  years, 
an'  he's  done  got  so  'tached  ter  'em  he  won't  sell 
'em  ertall." 

The  old  gentleman's  face  reddened  at  the 
rascal's  impudence,  but  he  could  not  deny 
the  notorious  and  ridiculous  fact,  so  only 
said  : 

"  Shut  yer  fool  mouth,  Jim  !  Come  on,  Jack, 
less  go  down  ter  ther  blacksmith  shop  ;  I  still 
keep  one  in  ther  same  ol'  place,  tho'  it  costs 
more  than  it  comes  to  since  ther  war.  But  I 
just  had  ter  keep  it  up  ter  give  Mitch  some- 
thing ter  do  ;  he  's  ther  best  smith  in  Kentucky 
to-day.  Fact  is,  I  couldn't  ride  er  hoss  Mitch 
34 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

hadn't  shod  ;  but  come  on,  he'll  be  mortally 
offended  if  you  don't  come  ter  see  him  yer  fust 
evenin'  home." 

I  followed  my  grandfather,  thinking  how 
strong  his  hold  on  the  affections  of  his  slaves 
must  be  that  they  still,  after  all  the  years  of 
freedom,  called  him  master. 

The  evening  was  lovely.  The  western  sun 
had  just  sunken  from  sight,  and  the  whole 
heaven  was  blushing  like  a  schoolgirl  after  her 
first  kiss  ;  the  evening  star  winked  at  us  with 
an  eye  glowing  as  a  happy  lover's ;  that  sallow 
old  jade,  the  moon,  had  a  knowing  look  as  she 
crept  slyly  and  slowly  up  the  eastern  horizon, 
seeming  to  half  expect  she  would  find  some 
new  mischief  agog — foolish  old  thing,  after 
her  thousands  of  years  watching  lovers. 

"  Nay,  nay,  Luna  !  "  I  cried  aloud,  gayly. 

"Hey,  hey?"  queried  grandfather,  walk- 
ing ahead.  I  did  not  reply.  I  knew  he  would 
rather  die  than  accept  my  assistance,  though 
he  was  badly  crippled  from  rheumatism,  so 
walked  behind  him  in  the  narrow  path.  Lean- 
ing on  his  stout  hickory  staff,  his  huge  legs 
followed  one  another  so  slowly  that  I  grew 
chilly  in  the  autumn  air  and  welcomed  the 
35 


Juletty 

assurance  of  warmth  in  the  red  glow  that  fell 
athwart  the  road  from  the  widespread  smithy 
door.  Mitch,  the  smith,  had  heard  us  coming, 
and  had  stopped  work ;  we  could  see  him  in  the 
distance.  And  what  a  Dantesque  picture  he 
made  !  He  was  an  immense  negro,  and  as  he 
stood  a  little  back  from  the  door,  holding  in 
one  hand  a  pair  of  pinchers  in  which  he  clasped 
a  red-hot  horseshoe,  the  other  mighty  arm  up- 
lifted poising  his  hammer,  his  sleek  leather 
apron,  checked  shirt,  bare  throat  and  chest 
gleaming  in  the  crimson  dancing  firelight — 
verily,  he  looked  as  some  black  fiend  at  the 
entrance  to  Hades. 

When  I  stepped  towards  him  he  recognized 
me,  to  my  surprise,  and  impulsively  snatched 
from  his  head  the  old  piece  of  hat  (crownless 
as  a  banished  king  and  rimless  as  a  bucket 
gone  to  staves),  caught  my  hand  in  his  brawny 
palm,  and  shouted  eagerly :  "  Marse  Jack !  Tis 
fer  shore !  It's  Miss  'Liza's  boy !  Now  ain't  I 
glad  ter  see  yer  ?  Lawd,  I  nussed  chore  maw 
when  she  wusn't  higher'n  yer  knee ;  an'  I's 
raised  up  thar  whar  yer  come  frum.  How  is 
yer,  Marse  Jack  ;  how  is  yer,  ennyhow?" 

I  responded  warmly  to  the  old  darkey's 
36 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

greeting,  and  then  my  attention  was  called  to 
my  grandfather,  who,  on  entering  the  smithy, 
had  stumbled  over  a  great  stone  that  lay  as  a 
step  in  the  door,  and  he  had  given  his  poor 
rheumatic  legs  a  fearful  twinge.  He  groaned 
piteously  a  moment,  then  looking  up  at  Mitch 
as  he  towered  above  him,  he  roared  in  mad- 
ness of  anger:  "Take  that  cussed  stone  and 
throw  it  ter  hell!" 

The  negro's  black  eyes  sparkled,  and  lolling 
his  head  to  one  side  and  thrusting  his  tongue 
into  his  cheek  with  a  keen  appreciation  of  the 
joke  he  was  playing,  he  said : 

"  Er,  er,  hadn'  I  better  fling  it  somewhars 
else,  Marse  Alec  ?  Yer  might  stumble  over  it 
ergin." 

The  laugh  was  on  the  old  gentleman,  and  he 
recognized  the  fact  goodnaturedly ;  then  he 
and  Mitch  fell  a-talking,  notes  of  the  day's 
work  were  taken  and  plans  formed  for  the 
morrow. 

Half  listening,  half  drowsing  in  the  pleas- 
ant warmth,  I  returned  to  thoughts  of  that 
illicit  distillery,  and  began  to  form  plots  for 
raiding  it  ;  a  bird-dog  will  set  when  he  scents 
a  quail,  a  hound  will  bay  when  he  strikes  a  fox 

37 


Juletty 

trail,  and  a  States'  marshal  will  work  when  he 
hears  the  first  whisper  of  illicit  liquor. 

My  dreams  were,  however,  broken  in  upon  ; 
strangely  enough,  too,  it  was  by  the  notes  of  a 
violin. 

Not  scraping  and  screeching,  after  the  man- 
ner of  country  violins  in  general,  whose  tones 
ever  seem  to  lack  the  polished  smoothness  of 
their  city  brethren,  but  these  were  full,  tender, 
melting  notes  like  those  that  tell  the  springtime 
love  tale  of  some  wild  brown  thrush. 

The  rich  strains  at  once  interested  me,  and  I 
looked  inquiringly  at  my  grandfather. 

"Just  that  fool  Buddy,"  he  said,  and  con- 
tinued his  talk  with  Mitch. 

I  arose  and  walked  to  the  door,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  night.  Almost  as  clearly  as  by 
day  I  could  see  in  the  crystal  moonlight  the 
dirt  road  curving  away  like  a  sluggish  serpent 
through  the  knee-deep  orchard  grass;  and 
down  its  middle  came  a  procession  of  Bac- 
chanals. 

The  foremost  figure  was  that  of  a  man,  his 

bended  arm  wielding  the  bow  of  a  violin  which 

rested  under  the  bowed  head,  while  his  lithe 

figure  and  bounding  step,  half  skip,  half  dance, 

38 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

kept  time  to  his  music ;  behind  him  were 
twenty  or  thirty  children,  black  and  white,  and 
they,  too,  with  the  unstudied  grace  of  child- 
hood, danced  after  their  leader.  Some  had 
their  short  skirts  uplifted,  others  held  flowers 
above  their  heads,  others,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  old-time  negro  dancer,  bent  forward  with 
delighted  eyes  to  study  the  beauty  of  their 
own  steps ;  others  yet,  who  seemed  to  be  em- 
bryo lovers,  were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms, 
but  all  were  dancing  with  the  wild,  careless, 
free,  graceful  ecstasy  of  motion  which  none 
but  very  small  children  and  savages  ever  attain. 

Grandfather  could  see  them  from  his  chair, 
as  they  drew  near,  but  though  his  eyes  be- 
trayed his  artistic  pleasure  in  the  scene,  he 
only  grunted,  with  apparent  disapproval  of  the 
entire  affair: 

"  The  Lord  was  mighty  near  out  o'  er  job 
when  he  made  Buddy." 

The  dancers  were  passing. 

"Where  are  they  going?"  I  enquired  with- 
out taking  my  eyes  from  the  fascinating  groups. 

"Out  to  ther  crossroads,  whar  there's  plenty 
of  room  and  good  soft  dust  ter  dance  in,"  he 
snorted  as  he  rose  to  go  home.  I  knew  how 

39 


Juletty 

he  adored  my  uncle  Warner  (Buddy,  as  he 
called  him),  knew  how  he  appreciated  the 
gentle,  refined  nature,  and  so  made  no  response 
to  his  seeming  harshness  when  he  said  as  we 
moved,  "  There  Buddy  '11  go  and  fiddle,  and 
them  little  devils  '11  dance  for  three  round 
hours.  Er  born  fool ;  that's  what  Buddy  is." 

Much  as  he  loved  him,  this  son  was  a  great 
trial  to  the  proud  old  father.  He  was  abso- 
lutely devoid  of  all  practical  common  sense. 
No  supercilious  critic  who  ever  picked  flaws 
in  poems  he  could  not  write,  was  more  capa- 
ble than  he  of  appreciating  good  poetry  ;  none 
revelled  more  in  garnering  from  some  gem  the 
poet's  sweetest  thought,  or  followed  with 
greater  pleasure  the  author's  most  skilful  plot 
and  best  English.  Not  one  of  the  many  ex- 
quisite views  on  and  around  his  father's  farm 
that  he  had  not,  with  considerable  skill,  trans- 
ferred to  canvas,  and  he  had,  with  the  plastic 
clay  from  old  Rich  Pond,  moulded  into  unde- 
niable likeness  a  figure  of  his  father's  giant 
frame  and  big  shock  head. 

Buddy  had  never  seen  a  musical  instrument 
he  could  not  play  on  with  more  or  less  success, 
and  yet  in  his  whole  life  he  had  never  once 
40 


In  Which  I  Snuff  the  Wind 

played  an  air;  he  simply  struck  chords  with 
such  perfection  of  time  and  expression  that 
it  was  a  joy  to  hear  him.  Like  the  pipe  of 
Mother  Goose's  famous  Tom,  his  violin  set  all 
listeners  to  dancing,  and  it  was  to  that  primi- 
tive music  of  the  chords  that  the  Bacchanalian 
orgy  at  the  crossroads  was  being  conducted. 

But  place  a  business  proposition  before  this 
poor  "  Babe  o'  Genius  "  and  he  forthwith  be- 
came as  helpless  as  a  newly  swaddled  infant. 
He  would  join  merrily  in  the  laugh  that  was 
sure  to  follow  any  attempt  on  his  part  to  do  a 
practical  thing,  though  I,  who  knew  him  well 
—he  had  spent  several  years  at  my  father's  and 
attended  school — saw  that  his  sensitive  soul 
shrank  from  the  ridicule  of  his  weakness,  and 
I  realized  the  bitterness  that  lay  under  the 
smiling  assertion,  "  I  am  Jack  of  all  trades  and 
master  of  none,"  and  I  knew  how  that  gentle 
heart  would  have  found  perfect  happiness  in 
being  able  to  master  only  one  of  his  many 
beautiful  possibilities ;  but  I  also  knew  that  it 
would  never  be.  He  would  go  through  life  a 
failure,  spite  of  all  his  talent,  because  of  being 
absolutely  void  of  what  is  called  "  business 
sense,  "  "  practicality,  "  "  management.  "  In 
41 


Juletty 

short,  he  was  a  genius,  a  dreamer,  who  in 
grasping  after  great  shadows  missed  the  greater 
substance.  It  saddened  me  to  think  of  him 
and  all  he  had  failed  in,  and  I  fancy  my  grand- 
father's thoughts  had  followed  the  trend  of 
mine,  for  our  return  walk  to  the  "  big  house  " 
was  a  silent  one.  Arrived  there,  I  bade  him 
good-night,  and  went  to  my  room,  but  not  to 
sleep ;  the  stem  of  my  pipe  between  my  lips, 
and  my  feet  on  the  window  sill,  I  leaned  back 
in  a  large,  comfortable  easy-chair,  and  enjoyed 
the  beauty  of  the  night  and  laid  plans  for  raid- 
ing that  hidden  still,  resolving  to  do  it,  no  odds 
if  it  took  me  all  winter.  But  often  across  my 
soberer  thoughts  there  would  flash  a  vision 
of  an  auburn  curl  and  a  creamy  neck,  and, 
strangely  enough,  the  more  sure  I  felt  of  solv- 
ing the  mystery  the  more  vivid  seemed  the 
vision,  until  I  half  thought  my  success  in  the 
still  hunt  might  be  rewarded  by  a  second  sight 
of  the  veiled  lady. 


42 


CHAPTER   III 

In  Which  I   Find  Other  Game 


CHAPTER  III 

IN   WHICH   I   FIND   OTHER  GAME 

GLORIOUS  October,  thy  sum  of  loveliness  is 
complete  in  southern  Kentucky  !  Then  all  the 
air  is  full  of  sweet  autumn  odors ;  scent  of 
mellowing  peach  and  husking  corn;  and  oh, 
the  delicious  fragrance  of  overripe  grapes  when 
they  have  dropped  from  their  frosted  stems  in 
little  heaps  side  by  side  with  their  sere  and 
withered  leaves.  I  found  joy  in  the  simple  fact 
that  I  was  living.  Then,  like  all  young  Ken- 
tuckians  who  find  that  happiness  welling  up 
within  them,  I  longed  for  shotgun  and  dog 
that  I  might  deprive  some  other  creature  of 
the  same  delight.  It  is  a  modern  relic  of 
ancient  savagery  that  causes  all  men  to  enjoy 
a  day's  hunt.  I  especially  was  anxious  at  this 
time  for  the  sport,  for  my  grandfather  had 
aroused  my  enthusiasm  by  telling  me  a  tale  of 
the  olden  time  when  not  hundreds  but  thou- 
sands of  wild  pigeons  roosted  in  "  The  Grove  " 

45 


Juletty 

every  night.  He  said  if  one  would  get  out  at 
"  the  fust  crack  of  day  "  no  firearm  was  needed, 
for  then  wild  pigeons  were  too  thick  to  shoot, 
and  a  stout  hickory  stick  would  slay  sack- 
fuls.  He  said  in  those  days  each  tree  bore  its 
burden  of  birds ;  indeed,  so  numerous  were 
they  that  great  limbs  frequently  broke  be- 
neath their  weight,  killing  and  wounding 
hundreds. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  literally?"  I  asked. 

"  Why,  certainly  I  do.  I  have  seen  them 
carried  away  in  two-bushel  bags  morning  after 
morning.  More  than  that,  when  they  would 
rise  in  the  early  dawn  to  go  in  a  body  to  their 
feeding  grounds,  I  have  heard  the  whirr  of 
their  wings  sound  like  the  roar  of  a  dozen 
mills,  and  have  seen  them  blot  out  the  sunlight 
like  some  black  stormcloud.  I  know  that 
sounds  like  exaggeration,  but  I  can  find  twenty 
men  in  Warren  County  who  will  remember  it 
just  as  I  have  told  you." 

I  expressed  my  satisfaction  with  his  veracity, 
but  told  him  I  positively  must  see  what  the 
country  had  in  the  shape  of  game  at  that  pres- 
ent time.  I  thought  my  arm  strong  enough 
for  the  gun,  so  called  up  my  dog  next  morning 
46 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

and  set  out  for  a  hunt.  Early  as  it  was,  grand- 
mother saw  me  off,  and  I  started,  telling  her 
not  to  wait  breakfast  for  me  if  I  should  happen 
to  be  late.  I  walked  through  the  grove  in  the 
gray  of  the  early  morning — it  was  not  then 
more  than  half-past  five — looking  up  at  the 
magnificent  trees  and  trying  to  fancy  how  it 
would  seem  to  find  them  laden  with  birds;  then 
crossed  to  a  neighboring  stubble  field,  where 
my  dog,  a  fine  setter,  evinced  an  interest.  I 
called  to  him  to  hunt,  waving  my  hand  to  the 
right,  and  then  followed  his  alert,  wiry  body  as 
he  dashed  in  and  out  of  the  stubble,  his  intelli- 
gent eyes  glancing  hither  and  thither,  scanning 
every  inch  of  the  ground,  while  his  sensitive 
nostrils  scented  the  passing  breeze.  He 
hunted  over  perhaps  half  of  the  field,  and  I  was 
beginning  to  feel  discouraged,  when  suddenly 
he  paused ;  rigid  as  bronze,  one  foot  uplifted, 
the  head  thrust  forward  and  low,  the  tail  stiff 
and  straight  out  from  the  body,  he  stood,  a 
monument  of  Patience. 

"  Steady  !  "  I  warned  him  ;  then  with  cocked 
gun  balanced  in  my  hands,  crept  stealthily 
forward. 

A   crackle   of   twigs   beneath  my  feet,  and 

47 


Juletty 

"  Br-r-r-r-r,"  a  flock  of  partridges  lifted  like 
brown  autumn  leaves  in  a  whirlwind. 

"  Bang  !  bang !  "  roared  my  gun  ;  two  of  the 
pretty  innocents  obeyed  the  order  and  dropped 
some  twenty  yards  from  where  I  stood. 

"  Find  'em ;  find  'em,  Chesney,  old  fellow," 
I  said  caressingly  to  the  dog.  He  sprang 
eagerly  forward  with  half-open  muzzle  and 
nose  close  to  earth,  wriggled  into  a  thicket  and 
crept  out  again  with  one  of  the  birds  in  his 
jaws,  laid  it  in  my  hand,  and  speedily  brought 
out  the  other. 

I  am  not  at  all  sentimental,  but  the  quiver 
of  departing  life  in  the  warm  bodies,  as  they 
lay  on  my  palm,  said,  "  Enough  of  this  ";  besides 
which,  a  shout  of  merry  laughter  from  the 
woodland  near  excited  my  curiosity.  It  was  a 
woman's  laughter,  and  any  sane  man  would 
have  done  just  as  I  did — forgot  both  dog  and 
game  and  sought  the  laugher. 

I  crossed  the  road  and  looked  on  a  vision 
which  to  me  was  more  beautiful  than  dreams. 
A  gnarled  wild  grapevine  had  twisted  its 
sinuous  length  about  a  stout  young  maple, 
and  large  clusters  of  its  black  fruit  hung  from 
a  canopy  of  crimson  and  gold  leaves,  and 
4s 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

perched  among  them,  her  hands  clinging  to  a 
laden  branch,  was  a  young  girl.  Her  auburn 
hair  was  dishevelled  in  the  morning  breeze,  and 
her  eyes  were  like  twin  globes  of  old  Bourbon, 
imprisoning  dancing  imps  of  mischief;  her 
scarlet  lips  were  parted  over  small  white  teeth 
as  she  laughed  at  the  ineffectual  efforts  of  her 
escort  to  join  her  in  her  airy  seat.  Even  at 
that  first  glance  I  noted  the  firmness  of  her 
pink  flesh,  with  its  ever  changing  tints  of 
red,  and  felt  angry  that  some  insolent  thorn 
had  dared  to  leave  its  mark  upon  her  round 
arm. 

It  was  a  feast  of  beauty,  but  I  had  not  many 
minutes  to  enjoy  it,  for  the  ardor  of  my  look 
spoke  to  her  heart,  and,  though  there  was  no 
sound  from  my  quarter,  she  moved  restlessly 
several  times  and  finally  lifted  her  eyes  straight 
to  mine.  Maiden  modesty  asserted  itself  in 
the  flush  which  came  to  her  face  as  she  saw  me, 
and  the  quickness  with  which,  like  a  young 
athlete,  she  swung  to  the  ground. 

I  advanced  with  outstretched  hand  to  greet 

her,  for  the  motion  had  recalled  to  my  memory 

a   playmate   of  that   other  visit,   and   I  said 

earnestly :  "  I  am  sure  those  are  Juliet's  eyes, 

4  49 


Juletty 

and  I  remember  when  I  was  a  child  and  you 
were  a  child  ;  have  you  forgotten  ?  " 

She  tried  to  look  at  me  coolly  with  those 
radiant,  curious  orbs  of  hers,  that  looked  as 
if  some  live  thing  were  imprisoned  in  their 
depths  ;  but  my  vanity  was  gratified  at  the 
unmistakable  pleasure  there. 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten ;  you  are  Jack 
Burton.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again,"  she  said, 
quietly. 

I  had  not  thought  of  the  girl  for  Heaven  only 
knows  how  long,  but  all  at  once  I  remembered 
that  back  home,  somewhere,  I  had  a  mite  of  a 
ring  she  had  given  me  when  I  was  eleven  and 
she  six  years  of  age,  with  the  assurance  that 
"  now  we  are  engaged."  I  told  her  at  once 
that  I  had  come  to  redeem  my  part  of  the  con- 
tract, and  that  nothing  else  in  the  world  had 
brought  me  to  Warren  County.  She  laughed 
and  pretended  not  to  remember,  but  most  gra- 
ciously asked  me  home  with  them  to  breakfast. 
I  accepted  gladly  the  invitation,  and  we  strolled 
off,  followed  by  the  boy  with  the  grapes.  Her 
"  nephew,  James  Lincque,"  she  had  called 
him,  a  youth  of  about  sixteen  years  I  judged, 
small,  red-haired,  black-eyed,  and  best  de- 
50 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

scribed  by  changing  the  spelling  of  his  name 
to  Lynx. 

Now  I  remembered  that  at  my  grandfather's 
the  negroes  designated  the  Lincques  as  "  po' 
white  trash,"  so  that,  though  the  girl's  radiant 
beauty  was  but  the  fulfilment  of  her  early 
physical  promise,  the  evidence  of  culture  and 
refinement  was  unexpected  and  I  wondered  at 
it.  Her  nephew  showed  no  such  characteris- 
tics, and  his  speech  savored  of  the  usual  dia- 
lect. In  response  to  questions  from  me,  Juliet 
pointed  out  places  of  interest  as  we  wended  our 
way  to  the  main  road  where  the  path  we  fol- 
lowed curved  around  an  immense  oak  stump ;  on 
this  stump  when  we  reached  it  a  yellow. stone 
jug  had  a  place  ;  seeing  it,  Miss  Juliet  frowned. 

"  Do  you  know  we  have  illicit  distilling  down 
here  ?  "  she  asked  ;  "  there  is  one  of  the  very  dis- 
agreeable evidences  of  it." 

"  Good  !  "  said  I  to  myself ;  "  here  is  the  first 
link  in  the  chain  I  mean  to  weave  around  that 
daring  lawbreaker." 

I  considered  it  a  good  omen  that  Juliet  had 
forged  that  first  link  for  me,  and  gayly  lifted 
the  jug,  smiling  to  find  the  telltale  half  dollar 
underneath. 

51 


Juletty 

"  He  who  makes  that  stuff  must  be  a  pretty 
sly  rascal  for  all  his  pluck,"  I  said  aloud.  "  Why 
don't  you  make  a  detective  of  yourself,  Jim, 
and  find  him  out?" 

"  I  'ont  keer  nothin'  'bout  findin'  him  out ; 
he  can  make  moonshine  whiskey  till  ther  crack 
er  doom,  fer  all  I  keer." 

Arrived  at  their  home,  I  received  a  cordial 
greeting  from  gentle  old  Mr.  Lincque,  whom 
we  found  seated  on  the  front  porch  reading  his 
Bible ;  the  awkward  reserve  of  his  wife's  wel- 
come contrasted  in  his  favor,  and  it  was  with 
a  mental  note  of  his  superiority  to  her  that  I 
took  my  place  at  the  table.  My  long  walk  and 
happy  frame  of  mind  gave  me  a  thorough  ap- 
preciation of  the  dishes  of  fried  ham  and  eggs, 
delicious  corn-cakes,  and  flaky  hot  biscuit — the 
usual  menu  for  a  country  breakfast  in  Ken- 
tucky. Immediately  after  we  were  seated  the 
old  man  bowed  his  gray  head  over  his  folded 
hands,  and  with  reverence  and  fervor  besought  a 
blessing  on  household  and  guest.  I  was  never 
more  impressed  with  one's  piety.  Scarcely 
had  the  "  Amen  "  been  uttered  when  the  wife 
with  startling  abruptness  rattled  cups  and 
saucers  with  what  I  thought  was  unnecessary 
52 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

vigor,  and  served  in  silence  her  excellent  coffee. 
Only  once  or  twice  did  she  speak  during  the 
meal,  and  then  it  was  to  address  Juliet. 

"  Juletty,"she  said  in  soft,  drawling  tones, 
"  ask  your  pa  if  he'll  have  some  more  coffee." 

Juliet  repeated  the  request  to  her  father ;  he 
heard  well,  so  I  knew  it  could  not  be  deafness 
that  made  it  needful  that  his  wife  should 
address  him  through  another. 

"  Juletty,  tell  your  pa  to  give  Mister  Burton 
another  piece  of  that  ham,"  she  said. 

Juliet  again  complied,  and  as  no  one  noticed 
the  requests  I  was  aware  it  was  the  custom 
that  they  be  made,  but  was  not  at  all  prepared 
for  what  followed. 

"  My  dear,"  Mr.  Lincque  said,  looking  mildly 
at  his  wife,  "  may  I  send  you  a  piece  of  ham  ?  " 

"  Juletty,  tell  your  pa  I've  finished  my  break- 
fast," said  madam. 

Juliet,  with  remarkable  self-possession,  kept 
up  a  merry  banter  with  me. 

"You  have  certainly,  had  an  'eye  opener* 
this  morning,"  I  said.  "  Did  you  try  the  '  moun- 
tain dew  '  at  the  stump  ?  " 

She  laughingly  denied  the  imputation,  bid- 
ding me  remember  that  the  jug  was  empty. 

53 


Juletty 

"  So  it  was,"  I  said,  when  Mr.  Lincque  broke 
in  with  a  heavy  sigh  : 

"  It  is  remarkable  that  no  way  has  been 
found  to  apprehend  that  'licit  distiller;  it 
is  a  disgrace  to  the  neighborhood  that  such 
a  thing  can  go  on  in  our  midst.  I  am  a 
law-abiding  citizen  myself,  and  so  far  as  in 
me  lies  mean  to  keep  everybody  else  to  the 
same  notch,  and  I  have  offered  a  hundred 
dollars  private  reward  to  any  individual  who 
will  capture  the  feller  and  his  still." 

James  giggled ;  I  supposed  because  of  the 
old  man's  manner  and  speech.  His  neighbors 
accused  him  of  the  enormity  of  "  talking  like  a 
book,"  and,  indeed,  his  conversation  was  vastly 
superior  to  that  of  his  illiterate  class.  To  me 
the  reason  was  plain  he  had  learned  to  speak 
well  by  constant  and  devout  study  of  the 
Bible. 

When  James's  giggle  reached  his  ears  he 
turned  to  him  with  the  mildness  of  an  accusing 
angel,  and  said  quietly : 

"  My  son,  leave  the  table." 

And,  in  spite  of  his  mildness,  James  left. 

Mr.  Lincque  then  continued  as  though  he 
had  not  been  interrupted :  " '  Render  unto 

54 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's '  is  the 
command." 

Just  then  Mrs.  Lincque  arose  and  left  the 
room  ;  her  husband  was  evidently  unmoved  by 
her  apparent  contempt,  and  talked  placidly  on 
till  I  pushed  back  from  the  table,  and  urged 
my  grandmother's  uneasiness  over  my  pro- 
longed absence  as  an  excuse  for  so  hastily 
leaving  him.  He  accompanied  me  to  the  door, 
and  there  called  the  disgraced  James,  suggesting 
that  he  go  with  us  to  the  crossroads — about 
half  a  mile — and  show  me  his  study.  I  was 
rather  surprised  that  the  young  rascal  should 
have  a  study,  but  urged  that  he  give  me  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  it,  bade  Juliet  good  morning, 
and  assured  her  I  would  be  only  too  glad  to 
come  again,  as  I  followed  Jim. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  "  jug  stump"  as  it  was 
generally  called,  we  found  the  yellow  jug  had 
been  removed.  Jim  grinned  at  me.  No  refer- 
ence was  made  to  that  matter,  however,  for  the 
grandfather  was  busy  pointing  out  to  me  the 
beauties  of  a  gigantic  sugar  tree  about  one 
hundred  yards  further  on  ;  the  long,  straight 
limbs  were  laden  with  the  brilliant  autumn 
foliage,  and  it  looked  much  like  a  huge,  mottled 

55 


Juletty 

Chinese  umbrella.  When  we  reached  its  foot, 
I  paused  with  the  others,  and  James  ran  swiftly 
up  the  trunk  with  the  ease  of  the  son  of  a  hun- 
dred monkeys,  inviting  me  to  follow.  Seeing 
that  it  was  for  a  purpose,  I  did  so.  There  was 
the  boy's  study,  most  ingeniously  arranged ; 
an  old  whiskey  barrel  lay  across  the  lowest 
forks  of  the  tree,  the  upper  side  cushioned 
with  oilcloth  pillows ;  at  one  end  a  box  which, 
opened,  showed  books  and  writing  materials, 
while  over  all  was  a  rude  canopy,  also  of  oil- 
cloth, serving  as  protection  from  inclement 
weather. 

"  It's  er  putty  fine  view  up  there,  ain't  it,  Mr. 
Burton?"  called  my  host  from  below.  "You 
can  see  that  James  is  a  lover  of  Nature  as  well 
as  a  student,  can't  you  ?" 

I  looked  at  the  sly,  ordinary  face  of  the  boy 
beside  me,  and  wondered  if  he  would  ever  be 
worthy  of  the  fond  pride  of  the  fine  old  grand- 
father, and  then  turned  to  admire  the  glowing 
picture  spread  about  me ;  yet  so  truly  was  I  a 
still-hunter  that  the  chief  impression  I  gained 
from  the  look  was  that  the  study  commanded 
a  fine  view  of  the  jug  stump,  and  might  be 
used  to  advantage  as  a  place  of  lookout  for 
56 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

the  smuggler  who  bartered  his  goods  there. 
No  sooner  had  the  thought  occurred  to  me 
than  I  formed  a  bold  resolution.  Turning,  I 
said,  "  James,  meet  me  here  early  to-morrow 
morning  and  I  will  add  some  new  books  to 
your  collection." 

The  boy  looked  at  me  uneasily,  and  was  rest- 
less, but  showed  no  pleasure  in  the  promise ; 
the  grandfather  was,  however,  profuse  in  his  ex- 
pressions of  gratitude  as  he  bade  me  good-by. 

When  I  reached  my  grandfather's  I  ex- 
plained my  absence,  and  also  expressed  my 
surprise  at  the  evident  rise  in  the  world  of  the 
Lincque  family. 

"  Yes,"  said  my  grandfather  ;  "  it  is  a  strange 
case.  None  of  the  family  were  worth  killin' : 
shif'less,  triflin',  no  'count ;  good  fer  nothin' 
but  ter  set  eround  and  whistle  and  talk  poli- 
tics, till  one  day  this  ole  scalawag  took  it  into 
his  infernal  ole  head  to  come  over  here  and 
ask  me  to  loan  him  er  thousan'  dollars  'fer 
God's  sake.'  I  done  it,  of  course"  (he  looked 
ashamed  ;  loaning  money  and  signing  security 
notes  was  his  great  weakness),  "and,  by  jing! 
'twarn't  er  year  till  he  paid  it,  interest  and  all. 
It  give  me  a  terrible  setback.  I  been  loaning 

57 


Juletty 

money  ter  the  rascals  all  my  life,  and  that  was 
the  fust  time  such  a  thing  happened.  But  it 
showed  he  is  honest  if  he  ain't  nothin'  else 
good." 

"  And  with  that  wee  bit  of  honesty  to  en- 
courage you,  you  have  been  loaning  money  to 
the  rest  ever  since,"  said  his  sarcastic  better 
half.  He  did  not  notice  her,  but  went  on  to 
say  to  me :  "  Well,  it  warn't  no  time  till  he  built 
that  fine  house  he  lives  in,  fitted  it  up  sprucey 
as  yer  please,  sent  Juliet  to  school,  and  done 
his  best  fer  that  fool  grandson  of  his,  till  it's 
just  like  you  see — the  boy  and  the  girl  do 
nothin'  but  fly  eround  over  the  country  on  the 
best  horseflesh  to  be  had,  and  frolic  eternally. 
He  owns  five  hundred  acres  of  good  land,  don't 
appear  to  owe  anything,  and  is  in  putty  good 
fix ;  but  how  he  done  it  so  darned  quick,  that's 
the  mystery." 

After  a  moment's  reflection  he  added,  as  if 
sorely  puzzled :  "  The  feller's  a  gol-darned  ras- 
cal, that's  what  he  is." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Hamilton,  I  would  not  say  that 

if  I  were  you,"  expostulated  my  grandmother; 

"you  certainly  know    Mr.  Lincque  is  a  very 

pious  man,  and  I  never  heard  any  one  pray  so 

58 


In  Which  I  Find  Other  Game 

beautifully.  Do  you  know,  Jack  dear,  I  half 
think  Mr.  Hamilton  dislikes  the  poor  man  be- 
cause he  was  his  successful  rival  for  the  hand 
of  Mrs.  Lincque  ?  She  was  quite  a  belle  in  her 
palmy  days." 

Grandmother  glanced  archly  at  her  husband 
— well  did  she  know  that  he  worshipped  her — 
before  continuing  with  renewed  interest  her 
conversation  with  me.  "  Did  you  notice  that 
she  only  addresses  her  husband  through  a  sort 
of  interpreter  ?  She  has  not  spoken  to  him 
since  the  day  he  borrowed  that  money  from  Mr. 
Hamilton  ;  I  fancy  she  felt  chagrined  that  he 
had  to  apply  to  her  quondam  lover  for  assist- 
ance. It  seems  strange,  though,  that  she  does 
not  forgive  him,  nqw  that  the  loan  was  so 
advantageous  and  has  made  him  a  rich  man." 

"  No,"  said  grandfather  with  conviction  ; 
"  Martha  Lincque  is  a  woman  of  unusual  good 
sense — horse  sense — and  that  cannot  be  her 
reason  for  such  conduct ;  the  feller  has  done 
some  wrong,  is  still  committing  some  sin 
which  she  cannot  condone,  for  I  am  sure  she 
would  forgive  any  crime  of  the  past."  And 
again  he  said  after  a  pause,  "  The  man's  er 
darned  rascal!  He  is,  shore's  yer  born." 

59 


Juletty 

Whatever  the  father  might  be,  I  was  sure  of 
one  thing — a  sight  of  Juliet's  Bourbon-colored 
eyes  had  intoxicated  me  much  more  deeply 
than  would  a  drink  of  the  real  article,  twenty 
years  old. 


60 


CHAPTER  IV 
In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 


CHAPTER   IV 

IN   WHICH    I   WIN   ONE   GAME 

THE  following  morning,  after  my  early  break- 
fast, I  went  to  the  tryst  with  James.  Early  as 
I  was,  he  had  preceded  me,  and  I  hoped  I  had 
misjudged  the  boy,  and  would  find  him  really 
anxious  for  the  books  which  I  carried  under  my 
arm,  and  which  were  my  excuse  for  the  visit. 
I  had  laid  my  plans  on  the  basis  that  boldness 
often  wins  what  craft  will  fail  of,  and  was  re- 
solved on  making  a  confidant  and  ally  of  the 
young  student,  so,  after  some  talk  on  book  lore, 
I  assailed  him  with  this  question,  put  with  easy 
familiarity,  "Jim,  old  boy,  can  you  keep  a 
secret  ?  " 

He  eyed  me  sharply,  slantwise  and  suspi- 
ciously, as  a  bird  ere  it  wings  its  way  from  the 
wiles  of  the  serpent,  then  replied,  with  careless 
confidence  and  utter  indifference  as  to  all 
secrets,  "  Cose  I  can  ;  ef  I  couldn'  I'd  er 
blabbed  erbout  you  er  fallin'  in  love  'ith  Aunt 
63 


Juletty 

Juliet  the  minnit  yer  clapt  eyes  on  her  yistiddy  ; 
an'  I'd  er  tole  vvhut's  the  reason  gramma  'ont 
speak  ter  grandpa ;  an'  I'd  up  an'  tell  yer  right 
now  who  Aunt  Juliet's  shore  'miff  sweetheart 
is  ;  an'  I'd  er " 

I  stopped  him  there ;  he  had  given  me  suffi- 
cient proof  of  his  capacity  for  secrecy. 

"  Now,  Jimmie,"  I  said,  in  the  most  confiden- 
tial manner  I  could  assume,  "you  are  not  to 
breathe  this  to  a  living  soul  until  I  shall  give 
you  leave  to  do  so.  My  business  is  to  find  and 
destroy  illicit  distilleries,  and  put  their  opera- 
tors where  they  cannot  start  others.  I  am  a 
United  States  marshal." 

Horror  and  affright  flashed  into  the  boy's 
face — the  look  of  a  beast  at  bay — and  I  thought 
for  a  moment  he  might  spring  at  my  throat ; 
then  he  recovered  himself,  and  asked  :  "  Why 
doncher  go  ter  ther  mount'ns  fer  that  sorter 
work?  There  ain't  no  stills  ter  'mount  to 
nothin'  'roun'  here.  Ain't  none  'at  ever  I 
heered  uv,  'cep'n  this  here  jug  stump  thing, 
an'  nobody  don't  keer  nothin'  'tall  fer  it — not 
er  blame  thing." 

He  spoke  with  assumed  contempt  of  the  hid- 
den still,  but  his  tones  were  almost  pleading, 
64 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

though  there  might  have  been  a  suggestion  of 
threatening  in  them  when  he  added,  "You  jes* 
go  on  back  ter  them  mount'ns  now.  I  would 
ef  I  wuz  you,  an'  yer'll  fin'  ten  thar  to  whar 
you'll  fin'  one  here." 

I  looked  keenly  into  his  face  till  he  flushed 
under  it,  then  he  tossed  his  arms  above  his 
head,  yawned  in  pretended  weariness  of  the 
subject,  and  said,  with  what  he  meant  for  in- 
difference, "Well,  cose  'tain't  nothin'  ter  me 
whut  cher  do." 

"  No,  that  is  very  true,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  I 
wish  you  would  allow  me  to  sit  up  here,  either 
with  or  without  you,  and  watch  that  stump  oc- 
casionally." 

"Yer  air  welcome  ter  set  here  till  Gabr'el 
blows  his  trump  fer  all't  I  keer,"  he  replied 
cheerfully,  "  'cep'n  yer  got  ter  keep  still  while 
I'm  er  doin'  my  readin'." 

His  self-possession  quite  restored,  he  began 
clambering  down.  "  Thought  you  were  going 
to  read,"  I  said. 

"  Am  ;  but  I  gotter  fill  my  water  jug  ;  I  can't 

set  still  nowhars  fer  fifteen  minnits  'thout  er 

drink  uv  water.     Gran'pa,  he  says  it's  'cause  I 

ain't  never  got  over  the  malary  fevers ;  I  al'ays 

5  65 


Juletty 

keep  this  jug  up  here  " ;  and  swinging  to  his 
shoulder  a  yellow  jug  he  had  taken  from  his 
book  box — and  which  was  a  fac-simile  of  one  I 
had  been  careful  to  place  on  the  stump  with 
the  requisite  half  dollar  before  mounting  to  the 
airy  study — James  stepped  to  the  ground. 

"  I'll  be  back  dreckly,"  he  called  as  he  saunt- 
ered off,  whistling  gayly.  When  he  reached  the 
stump  he  placed  his  jug  beside  mine,  and 
stopped  to  tie  his  shoe;  when  he  straightened 
up  he  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  gazed 
eagerly  off  to  the  horizon  towards  my  right, 
then  he  shouted : 

"  Gemini  whiz  ! !     Jes'  look  at  ther  pidgins !  " 

I  turned  quickly,  and  scanned  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  but  never  a  pigeon  did  I  see. 
Jim's  ringing  laugh  came  back  to  me :  "April 
fool !  Er  way  here  in  November,  too ;  ain't 
yer  ashamed  uv  yerself  ?"  and,  laughing  mock- 
ingly, he  ran  on. 

I  was  amused  at  his  childishness,  and  it  re- 
called a  talk  I  had  with  Mitch  that  morning. 
Not  wishing  to  annoy  my  grandmother  with 
the  business,  I  had  gone  to  Mitch  to  borrow  a 
jug  to  tempt  the  distiller,  and  he  had  earnestly 
implored  me  to  have  nothing  at  all  to  do  with 
66 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

the  affair.  Said  he,  "  Marse  Jack,  it's  er  down- 
right temptin'  uv  Providence ;  thar's  hants  in 
that  stump  sartin  shore.  Why,  I've  knowed 
ther  jug  whut  wuz  sot  thar  to  jes'  git  itse'f 
filled  right  whilst  er  man  wuz  er  standin' 
lookin',  and  nary  human  seen  who  done  it. 
I've  knowed  men  ter  set  er  jug  thar  uv  dark 
nights,  an'  jes'  only  put  er  quarter  underneathen 
it,  and  then  he'd  jes'  git  his  jug  half  full ;  now 
who's  gwineter  know  er  quarter  fum  er  half 
when  it's  darker'n  er  stack  uv  black  cats,  cep'n 
hants?  'Sides,  Marse  Jack,"  and  Mitch  grew 
more  eloquently  earnest,  "  'sides,  thet  licker  is 
jes'  nacherly  too  good  ter  be  perduced  by 
mortenary  han's."  I  laughed  to  myself  as  I 
remembered  how  satisfied  Mitch  had  been  that 
the  last  assertion  was  a  clincher  too  strong  to 
be  doubted.  Just  at  that  time  James  an- 
nounced his  return  by  a'  loud,  shrill  whistle; 
once  more  beside  me,  he  offered  the  water  he 
had  brought.  Being  thirsty,  I  lifted  the  vessel 
to  my  lips,  but  one  taste  sufficed  ;  the  jug  had 
held  whiskey  at  some  time,  and  both  scent  and 
taste  clung  to  it  still.  With  a  wry  face  I 
returned  it  to  the  less  fastidious  owner,  who 
took  it  with  a  smile. 

67 


Juletty 

"Yer  won't  want  no  more  drinks  outen  my 
jug,  will  yer?  " 

"  Never,"  I  solemnly  affirmed,  and  was  again 
struck  by  the  peculiarity  of  his  expression, 
this  time  one  of  relief. 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  "Aunt  Juliet  tole  me  ter  ax 
yer  if  yer  wouldn't  go  er  hicker-nut  huntin'  with 
us-all  this  evenin'.  After  we  git  all  ther  hicker- 
nuts  we  want  we  air  er  goin'  ter  eat  er  big  sup- 
per in  ther  woods,  an'  by  that  time  ther  moon'll 
be  up,  an'  we'll  ride  home  in  ther  moonshine." 

"  I  shall  be  charmed,"  I  answered  with 
alacrity. 

Jim  grinned.  "  I  ain't  so  all  powerful  stuck 
on  goin'  myself,  but  grandpa  won't  never  let 
Aunt  Juliet  go  nowhars  'thout  I  go  ter  look 
arter  her.  Geerls  uv  her  age  need  er  sight  uv 
seein'  after.  I  know  one  thing  fer  sartin,  I'll 
be  mighty  glad  when  she  gits  ter  be  er  ol'  maid 
or  gits  married,  one,  I  ain't  er  keerin'  which. 
I  do  like  Aunt  Juliet  er  heap,  though;  she's 
better'n  mos'  geerls,  an'  married  women  has  er 
sight  er  trouble."  This  was  worldly  wisdom 
beyond  Jim's  years,  and  I  could  see  that  his 
dialect  was  largely  cultivated,  and  judged  it 
was  to  irritate  his  grandparent. 

68 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game       i 

"  Perhaps  she  will  be  an  exception  to  the 
married  rule,"  I  suggested,  trying  to  show  by 
my  manly  bearing  what  a  capable  young  fellow 
I  could  prove  myself  to  be  on  occasion  ;  "  any 
man  might  be  proud  to  spend  his  life  trying 
to  make  Miss  Juliet  happy." 

Jim  sniffed. 

I  felt  slightly  discouraged  by  his  evident  dis- 
approval, and  so  dropped  from  my  perch  to  go 
home  and  prepare  for  the  nutting  expedition. 
Then  Jim  volunteered: 

"Me  'n'  Aunt  Juliet  air  er  goin' hossback ; 
come  back  to  our-all's  house  when  yer  git 
ready  an*  we'll  all  go  out  tergether." 

His  proposition  suited  me  perfectly. 

"  Say,"  he  cried  as  I  started  off,  "  we  forgot 
all  erbout  ther  jug  stump,  did'n'  we  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  have  not  taken  my  eyes  off  it 
while  I  talked  to  you  ;  but  I  will  stop  and  get 
my  half  dollar  and  keep  it  for  another  watch- 
ing time  with  you  up  there ;  I  certainly  en- 
joyed it." 

The  boy  sprang  to  my  side  and  followed  me, 
his  eyes  twinkling  with  pleasure  at  the  compli- 
ment I  had  paid  him. 

When  we  reached  the  stump  I  paused  and 

6Q 


Juletty 

lifted  my  jug.  I  was  amazed  \o  find  —  by  its 
weight  —  that  it  was  full,  and  my  half  dollar 
gone  ! 

My  face  must  have  betrayed  my  surprise, 
for  Jim  whispered,  with  white  lips  and  trem- 
bling voice,  "  By  George  !  I  believe  it's  hants." 

I  turned  and  caught  the  boy  by  the  shoulder, 
and  looked  at  him  squarely  while  I  said  with  all 
the  sternness  I  could  muster,  "  Jim,  you  are  the 
only  human  being  who  has  been  near  this  spot 
since  I  placed  this  jug  here,  and  then  I  know  it 
to  have  been  empty  ;  I  now  find  it  full  of  illicit 
whiskey  ;  come,  explain  it  to  me." 

With  a  strength  for  which  I  was  wholly  un- 
prepared by  the  slight  figure,  he  shook  him- 
self free  from  my  grip,  and  throwing  back 
his  usually  stooped  shoulders,  lifted  his  flash- 
ing  eyes  to  mine  and  said  —  having  partially 
dropped  his  dialect  :  "  Mr.  Burton,  you  have 
no  right  to  call  me  a  rascal,  and  I  don't  intend 
you  shall  do  it  neither  ;  I  know  I'm  nothin' 
but  a  boy,  but  I'm  as  honest  as  you  are  —  an'  — 


The  wide-open,  honest  eyes,  the  righteous 
indignation  of  his  entire  bearing,  worked  on 
me,  and  I  interrupted  him  by  saying  lightly, 


70 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

"  All  right,  Jim ;  all  right,  sir  ;  I  ask  pardon. 
You  see  I  was  so  certain  I  had  not  lost  sight 
of  the  jug  for  one  moment  that  I  had  nothing 
to  think  but  that  you  might  have  effected  the 
filling  by  some  trick,  but  I  now  see  how  utterly 
impossible  it  was  that  you  could  have  done  so. 
I  am  sure  the  distiller  has  crept  up  through 
this  dense  undergrowth  that  comes  up  to  the 
stump  from  the  left.  Why,  I  can  fancy  the 
whole  thing ;  he  watched  us  from  this  side, 
lying  flat  to  escape  observation,  and  at  some 
point  of  our  conversation,  when  we  looked  at 
each  other,  simply  slipped  my  jug  and  replaced 
it  by  one  similar  to  it,  save  the  new  jug  was 
full  of  his  '  sperrits.'  ' 

Jim  gazed  at  me  admiringly  ;  he  was  much 
impressed  by  my  acumen.  "  Now  you  done  sed 
it,  it's  plain  as  day ;  ain't  it  curious  nobody 
else  ever  thought  uv  that  outen  all  the  folks 
that  has  watched  here  ?  You're  er  sharp  one, 
shore." 

I  thanked  him  for  the  flattery,  once  more 
laughingly  apologized,  and  bade  him  good-by 
till  afternoon.  Many  times  during  my  walk 
home  I  thought  that  no  one  but  Jim  had  been 
near  that  stump,  but  I  could  fathom  no  possi- 
71 


Juletty 

ble  scheme  that  he  could  have  concocted  to 
have  either  filled  or  exchanged  my  jug,  and 
finally  agreed  with  him  in  thinking  I  had  hit 
upon  the  means  by  which  it  had  been  accom- 
plished. It  would  have  been  an  easy  job  for 
any  skilled  woodsman — and  all  that  class  in 
Kentucky  are  such — to  have  crawled  through 
the  thicket  of  sumac  and  scrub  oak  without 
attracting  attention  ;  the  stump  was  at  the 
very  edge,  indeed,  partially  in  the  thickest  of 
the  underbrush,  and  he  might  lie  there  hidden, 
watching  for  the  moment  that  was  sure  to 
come  when  he  could  swiftly,  and  unobserved, 
effect  his  exchange.  It  was  simple  enough, 
but  he  would  not  catch  me  napping  again. 

By  three  of  the  clock  that  afternoon  three 
horses,  saddled  and  bridled,  stood  at  the  door 
of  the  Lincque  mansion ;  there  was  also  a  light 
spring  wagon.  The  horses  were  for  Juliet, 
Jim,  and  myself;  seated  in  the  vehicle,  holding 
the  lines  over  the  sleek,  fat  horses,  was  a  tall, 
lank,  country  lout,  whose  position  in  the 
Lincque  family,  I  had  discovered,  was  either 
that  of  servant  or  equal,  as  the  case  demanded  ; 
he  was  a  poor  relative,  working  on  scant  wages. 

Though  ungainly  in  the  extreme,  he  was  an 
72 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

interesting  person  ;  he  was  six  feet  three  inches 
in  height,  and  was,  I  suppose,  proud  of  it,  for  he 
carried  himself  well.  There  was  absolutely  no 
flesh  on  his  giant  frame,  and  he  would  have 
appeared  as  a  skeleton  but  for  his  wonderful 
development  of  muscle,  which  gave  him  the 
necessary  bulk.  I  had  a  few  days  before  seen 
him  swimming,  and  though  I  have  since  looked 
at  Sandow  and  others  of  his  ilk,  I  have  never 
seen  such  knots  and  cords  of  muscle  as  I  that 
day  saw  on  back,  arms,  and  throat. 

In  amazement  I  had  asked  him,  "  How  on 
earth  do  you  develop  it?  What  immense 
weights  do  you  lift  every  day?" 

"  My  work  ain't  nobody's  business,"  had 
been  his  sullen  answer. 

He  had  proved  on  all  occasions  so  curt  and 
morose  that  I  decided  to  leave  him  to  himself, 
and  that  afternoon,  happy  with  Juliet,  rode 
ahead,  leaving  him  to  follow  with  Jim  at  his 
leisure.  Only  once  on  the  way  did  we  wait  for 
them,  and  then  it  was  that  Juliet  might  assure 
herself  that  a  small  hamper  had  not  been  for- 
gotten in  the  packing  of  our  luncheon,  which 
in  baskets  and  hampers  formed  the  load  Al 
Lincque  had  in  his  wagon.  To  wait  for  the 
73 


Juletty 

cousins  we  had  stopped  beside  a  clump  of 
bushes,  and  they  came  upon  us  so  unexpectedly 
that  we  heard  the  closing  words  of  what  had 
evidently  been  an  earnest  talk.  Al  was  speak- 
ing, and  he  said :  "  I'll  teach  Jack  Burton  to 
come  down  here  botherin'  eround  'ith  other 
people's  business " ;  and  his  scowl  when  he 
found  I  had  heard  him  was  so  full  of  hate  that 
if  I  had  not  often  seen  such  before  it  might 
have  set  all  my  nerves  a-tingle.  Juliet  glanced 
at  me  to  see  if  I  had  indeed  heard  the  threat, 
and  I  assumed  indifference,  though  at  the  same 
time  making  a  mental  note  to  this  effect :  "  Al 
Lincque  is  jealous  because  Jim  has  told  him  I 
love  Juliet  (the  secret  he  had  boasted  of  keep- 
ing). He  is  a  dangerous  man  ;  I  will  keep  my 
weather  eye  out  for  him." 

The  nutting  party  was  much  like  all  such 
events  in  Warren  County,  especially  in  the  Rich 
Pond  neighborhood.  It  was  a  collection  of 
bright,  pretty,  charming  girls,  a  band  of  merry, 
gallant  gentlemen,  a  luncheon  fit  for  royalty's 
self,  and  why  not  ?  The  men  were  princes  by 
right  of  manliness  and  innate  nobility,  and  each 
girl  there  was  queen  of  some  heart.  We  had 
a  jolly  scamper  after  nuts,  and  then,  owing  to  a 

74 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

sudden  cold  change  in  the  variable  Kentucky 
climate,  we  must  needs  mount  our  horses  for 
the  ride  home  before  the  westering  sun  said 
good-night,  rather  than  wait  for  the  moonlight 
affair  we  had  promised  ourselves. 

Some  young  blood  while  saddling  related  how 
his  mettlesome  steed  at  a  recent  fox  chase  had 
jumped  the  Cow  Gap  in  the  railway  near  us  and 
had  run  like  a  scared  deer  down  the  ties  to  where 
the  county  road  intersected  the  rails.  The  man 
waxed  excited  over  the  adventure.  Said  he  : 
"  It  wasn't  any  fun,  I  can  tell  you.  Don't  you 
see  how  the  railroad  bed  is  built  up  clear  from 
the  Gap  to  the  Dirt  Road  ?  Why,  it's  five  feet 
straight  down  into  a  ditch  on  both  sides,  and  if 
that  horse  had  taken  a  fancy  to  turn  either  to 
right  or  to  left  before  we  reached  the  Dirt  Road, 
I  would  never  have  known  what  hurt  me.  Oh, 
it  was  a  ticklish  situation,  and  I  was  scared 
blue." 

The  speaker  wagged  his  head.  Like  all  who 
possess  undisputed  courage  he  had  not  hesi- 
tated to  acknowledge  an  acquaintance  with 
fear;  only  the  most  arrant  cowards  deny  it. 
So  Charles  Russell  received  the  laugh  at  his 
expense  with  utmost  good  nature.  After  the 
75 


Juletty 

merry  banter  had  subsided,  Juliet's  high,  sweet 
voice  said :  "  Pshaw,  Cousin  Charles,  it  was 
simply  because  you  value  that  precious  neck  of 
yours  so  highly  that  you  fancied  it  in  danger. 
I'll  take  that  same  leap,  and  I'll  run  Gray  Flo 
that  same  race  only  to  prove  what  a  trifling  feat 
it  is.  I  ask  all  the  crowd  to  remain  right  at 
this  place.  It  is  a  good  half-way  point  from 
which  you  may  see  the  Gap  over  there  at  your 
right,  and  at  your  left  the  junction  of  railway 
and  Dirt  Road  is  just  as  plainly  visible.  I  will 
lay  a  wager  with  you,  individually  and  collec- 
tively, that  she  will  jump  the  Gap,  and,  without 
dreaming  of  turning  to  either  side  or  jumping 
down  the  embankment,  will  keep  straight  down 
the  middle  of  the  ties  till  she  can  take  the  slope 
that  meets  the  road  so  gently  as  not  to  stir  me 
in  my  saddle." 

A  burst  of  applause  greeted  the  daring  pro- 
posal, and  I  felt  proud  of  my  brave  young  love, 
so  slight  and  girlish  with  all  her  pluck.  A  few 
of  the  older  members  of  our  party  (we  had  no 
chaperon)  demurred,  and  Jim  said,  "  Yer'd 
better  not,  Aunt  Juliet.  Flo's  ther  biggest  fool 
er  livin'  when  she  gets  her  head." 

"She  shall  not  get  her  head,"  Juliet  laughed 
76 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

confidently,  and,  heedless   of  warnings,  rode 
away. 

As  she  went  off  I  heard  stalwart  Al  Lincque 
mutter  something  about  "  a  piece  of  darned 
foolishness,"  and  noticed  that  he  mounted 
Jim's  fiery  thoroughbred,  took  the  boy's  quirt 
in  his  hand,  and  rode  close  to  the  steep  embank- 
ment at  top  of  which  lay  the  track.  I  smiled. 
In  the  last  few  weeks  I  had  seen  much  of 
Juliet's  horsemanship,  and  had  perfect  confi- 
dence in  her  ability  to  come  out  all  right  from 
the  rather  risky  experience  she  had  undertaken, 
and  was  therefore  surprised  to  hear  Jim  say, 
as  he  followed  his  cousin :  "  'S  long  as  she 
would  do  it,  she  had  er  better  rode  my  hoss  ; 
Flo  does  get  off  sometimes.  Jock's  got  ther 
best  bottom,  too ;  Flo's  jes'  good  fer  er  spurt, 
an'  then  she's  done." 

Those  words  made  me  a  little  uneasy,  and  I 
watched  Juliet  more  anxiously  ;  she  had  ridden 
on  the  level  some  distance  above  the  Gap, 
where  the  railway  was  lower  and  the  embank- 
ment less  difficult  to  scale.  All  eyes  were  fixed 
on  her,  and  for  the  first  time  I  realized  that 
she  was  doing  a  foolhardy  thing,  as  she  wheeled 
the  mare  around  and  darted  towards  us. 
77 


Juletty 

Light  as  a  gray  feather  borne  on  a  gale,  they 
lifted  and  cleared  the  Gap.  I  smiled  to  see 
the  daring  rider  wave  her  hand  in  token  of 
triumph. 

A  thrill  seemed  to  go  through  our  party,  and 
they  sighed  as  one,  showing  how  relieved  we 
were,  with  all  our  careless  ways,  to  have  the 
only  real  danger  of  the  affair  over,  for  we  knew 
the  ride  down  the  ties  meant  little.  I  felt 
some  contempt  for  Al  Lincque  that  he  should 
have  made  preparation  for  disaster.  But  in 
another  moment  I  saw  that  Juliet  had  lost  con- 
trol of  the  mare,  and  she  was  speeding  towards 
us  like  shot,  unheeding  her  rider's  desperate 
sawing  at  the  bit. 

All  could  see  it  as  they  drew  nearer,  but  a 
cry  of  horror  broke  from  us  when,  in  the  flash 
of  their  passing,  Juliet  turned  her  white  face 
to  us,  and  lifted  above  her  head  a  broken  bridle 
rein.  Good  God !  She  was  at  the  fickle 
brute's  mercy.  Only  one  line  !  And  a  pull 
on  that  meant  to  be  dashed  to  death  in  the 
ditch.  I  cursed  myself  for  not  having  restrained 
her,  and  for  being  unabh  to  render  her  assist- 
ance. 

Ah,  what  was  that  ? 
78 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

The  clatter  of  other  flying  hoofs,  and  the 
swish,  swish,  swish,  of  a  riding-whip  in  merci- 
less use. 

Giant  Al  Lincque,  on  Jim's  big  bay,  was  after 
them. 

Even  in  that  moment  of  agony  I  regretted 
my  former  contempt. 

But  what,  what  could  he  do? 

Nothing. 

Every  heart  stood  still. 

On,  on  they  flew. 

He  was  gaining ;  he  had  caught  them }  the 
mare  was  fagged  ;  in  another  minute  Al  would 
have  her  rein. 

We  breathed  once  more. 

Only  to  have  the  very  blood  frozen  in  our 
veins  as  we  heard,  shrill  and  clear  from  around 
the  curve,  the  whistle  of  the  evening  express 
coming  like  a  winged  death  to  meet  the  racing 
pair! 

Al  might  be  saved  ;  there  was  time  for  that. 

No ;  he  put  no  check  on  his  flying  steed, 
but  like  a  madman  urged  him  on  with  knee 
and  lash ;  he  was  trying  to  beat  the  train  to 
the  curve,  where  the  Dirt  Road  meant  life  to 
the  riders, 

79 


Juletty 

Unable  to  scale  the  embankment,  I  yet  ran 
after  them  at  the  brink  of  the  ditch,  and 
heard  Al  shout  cheerily : 

"You're  all  right,  Juletty;  hoi'  onter  yer 
pummel  and  shake  off  yer  sti'up  !  " 

The  train  had  rounded  the  curve  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  to  our  agonized  vision  the  goal  was 
about  half-way  between  horsey  and  locomo- 
tive ;  the  engineer  whistled  down  brakes,  but 
to  stop  in  time  was  an  impossibility. 

Al  saw  that,  dropped  the  quirt,  forged  to 
the  mare's  front,  rose  in  his  stirrups,  leaned 
sideways,  and — like  the  young  Hercules  that 
he  was — lifted  the  girlish  figure  from  the  gray, 
and  dashed  out  to  the  driveway. 

So  barely  did  he  escape  the  wheels  of  the 
train  that  the  fireman,  in  his  enthusiasm  over 
the  mad  daring,  hit  with  his  cap  the  rump  of 
the  big  bay  as  he  grazed  the  cab. 

The  engineer  put  on  steam  and  fled  away ; 
the  gray  had  tumbled  ingloriously  into  the 
ditch  as  soon  as  her  mistress  left  her  back, 
and,  strange  to  say,  had  arisen  and  was  brows- 
ing as  contentedly  as  though  outrunning  steam 
engines  was  a  part  of  her  daily  regimen. 

I  walked  back  to  the  picnickers  with  the 
80 


In  Which  I  Win  One  Game 

cousins,  who  dismounted,  and  they  laughed  off 
the  thing  with  equal  bravado,  though  it  was  a 
rather  quiet  party  who  finished  preparations 
for  home-going ;  our  horror  was  too  great  to 
be  talked  off  lightly. 

Jim  tried  to  catch  Miss  Flo,  for  his  aunt 
insisted  on  riding  her  home,  but  he  found  it  no 
easy  task  ;  she  curvetted,  pranced,  parked,  and 
tossed  her  pretty  head,  curling  her  tail  into  a 
silken  pompon  over  her  back,  and  refused  to 
be  captured  till  Juliet  herself  cajoled  her  into 
submission  with  an  apple. 

Riding  home,  we  dropped  behind  the  party, 
and  (these  matters  go  quickly  in  Kentucky, 
and  had  I  not  the  ring  of  a  former  engagement 
which  proved  this  but  a  renewal  ?)  yet — would 
you  believe  it  ? — with  my  betrothal  kiss  warm 
upon  my  lips  I  still  felt  a  stir  of  pity  for  big 
Al  Lincque,  and  his  disappointment. 

Heroes  never  lose  their  hold  upon  us. 


Si 


CHAPTER  V 

In  Which  I   Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 
of  a  Pennyrile   Battle 


CHAPTER   V 

IN  WHICH   I  HEAR  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 
OF  A   PENNYRILE   BATTLE 

I  FOUND  a  guest  at  Skileland  that  evening, 
when  I  returned  from  seeing  Juliet  safely  shel- 
tered after  her  daring  ride.  I  soon  learned 
that  he  was  a  son  of  an  old  friend  of  my  grand- 
father, and  had  stopped  to  spend  a  night  with 
him,  as  he  was  on  his  way  South  with  a  drove 
of  mules.  He  was  pleasant,  and  a  good  talker. 
Not  wishing  to  interfere  with  my  grandfa- 
ther's evident  enjoyment  of  his  conversation, 
I  dropped  upon  the  old-fashioned  sofa  in  the 
hall  after  supper,  knowing  that  there  I  would 
hear  every  word  of  what  was  proving  exceed- 
ingly interesting  to  me  without  being  com- 
pelled to  take  part  in  it.  The  guest  and  his 
host  were  in  perfect  accord  on  all  of  the  impor- 
tant public  questions  of  the  day,  and  so  could 
talk  unceasingly ;  had  it  been  otherwise  they 
would  have  had  to  change  the  subject,  for  in 
85 


Juletty 

those  days  feeling  ran  too  high  for  a  discussion 
between  men  of  different  political  creeds  to 
savor  of  hospitality.  My  grandfather  had  al- 
ways been  a  strong  Union  man,  and  was  one 
of  that  class  of  men  who  gave  Kentucky  her 
conservative  position  during  and  after  the  war. 
He  was  mind,  heart,  and  soul  a  Southerner ;  yet, 
at  the  same  time,  he  strongly  condemned  seces- 
sion, and  never  for  one  moment  faltered  in  his 
ardent  loyalty  to  the  union  of  States.  As  was 
usual,  the  talk  turned  to  the  war  and  its  issues, 
and  I  was  an  amused  listener,  while  he  blessed 
"Yankees"  and  "  Rebels  "  alike  in  lurid  capi- 
tals, in  blissful  oblivion  of  the  fact  that  he 
occasionally  caused  his  guest  to  writhe,  for  all 
his  sympathies  went  out  to  the  South,  right 
or  wrong. 

He  had  asked  the  stranger  many  questions 
concerning  the  battle  at  Lebanon,  a  town  that 
is  geographically  situated  in  the  centre  of  the 
State.  Suddenly  his  interest  quickened,  and  he 
asked :  "  Tell  me  if  Myrtledene  was  injured 
when  Morgan  met  Hanson  at  Lebanon.  I  have 
not  seen  an  eye-witness  to  that  affair,  and  have 
felt  a  special  desire  to  know  if  that  particular 
place  suffered  from  the  battle,  and  have  under- 
86 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences' 

stood  that  the  house  was  the  central  point  of 
a  large  gathering  that  day.  It  is  very  dear  to 
me  ;  the  builder,  Ben  Spalding,  was  one  of  the 
best  friends  of  my  life,  and  I  well  remember 
when  he  built  the  house,  in  '33 ;  that  was  the 
year  in  which  cholera  devastated  the  town, 
and  it  was  perhaps  on  that  account  I  so  well 
recall  the  exact  date.  Spalding  was  even  then 
pretty  well  advanced  in  years,  but  had  just 
married  a  beautiful  and  brilliant  young  girl ; 
he  was,  of  course,  very  proud  of  her,  and  any 
slightest  wish  of  Elizabeth's  was  as  law  to  him. 
So  it  was  to  please  her  rather  fastidious  taste 
that  he  built  the  handsome  old  colonial  dwell- 
ing  that  bears  the  name  of  Myrtledene,  and 
there  he  kept  open  house  for  friends  and  rela- 
tives, as  well  as  for  the  biggest  and  best  men 
in  the  entire  State.  I  remember  that  at  one 
time  Elizabeth  was  anxious  that  the  Synod  of 
her  Church  should  be  held  in  Lebanon,  and 
feared  they  might  not  be  properly  entertained ; 
'y  Gyar,  that  didn't  interfere  with  Spalding. 
He  managed  to  get  the  appointment,  and  enter- 
tained the  whole  thing  at  Myrtledene  himself; 
he  was  a  Catholic,  too,  but  he  was  certainly 
one  of  the  grandest  men  who  ever  lived. 
87 


Juletty 

"  But  tell  me  what  you  know  about  it.  Were 
you  there  on  the  day  of  the  battle  ?  " 

"  I  was  right  there  ;  all  the  time  I  was  not 
somewhere  else,"  said  the  guest,  lightly. 

"Uncle  and  a -nt  were  in  Terre  Haute  just 
at  that  time,  for  Kentucky  was  not  exactly  an 
asylum  to  him  in  those  days,  and  though  I  was 
but  fifteen  years  old  I  had  been  left  to  take 
care  of  my  adopted  sister — recently  married  to 
a  Federal  major — and  also  with  the  entire  re- 
sponsibility of  the  large  farm  and  household. 
The  last  consisted  chiefly  of  about  forty 
negroes,  and  had  I  been  at  all  conscious  of  the 
greatness  of  the  undertaking  I  would  have 
been  overwhelmed  ;  but  truly,  they  that  know 
nothing  fear  nothing,  and  I  was  quite  willing 
to  shoulder  the  burden.  Myrtledene  is  situ- 
ated at  the  summit  of  the  hill  that  crowns 
Spalding  Avenue,  while  the  town  of  Lebanon 
itself  lies  in  the  valley  at  the  base.  It  is  a 
crooked  little  city ;  in  fact,  it  is  said  that  the 
builders,  rather  than  lay  straight  new  streets, 
followed  the  tortuous  line  of  the  cowpaths, 
and  a  walk  down  Main  Street  will  convince  one 
that  the  statement  is  true.  It  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  town  that  a  regiment  of  Yankee  soldiers 
88 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

was  encamped,  with  headquarters  at  Shuck's 
Hall.  Du  Mont  was  their  commanding  officer, 
and  I  necessarily  saw  a  great  deal  of  him,  but 
have  never  been  able  to  fully  determine  within 
my  own  mind  whether  he  was  most  fool, 
coward,  or  knave.  Why,  I  tell  you,  man,  that 
the  next  hundred  years  cannot  possibly  re- 
place the  magnificent  forest  trees  that  he  had 
cut  down  in  order  that  '  nothing  should  inter- 
fere with  his  glass,'  through  which  he  kept 
constant  watch  for  rebel  soldiers.  Hundreds 
of  acres  of  corn  were  also  mowed  to  the  ground 
for  the  same  reason ;  it  was  an  utter  piece  of 
folly  or  wanton  vandalism,  and  it  was  not  he, 
but  the  citizens  of  Marion  County,  who  had  to 
pay  the  fiddler.  Well,  he  didn't  keep  up  that 
watch  for  nothing :  his  patience — or  his  impa- 
tience— was  rewarded  by  news  on  the  Fourth 
of  July.  An  excited  courier  rode  into  town 
that  day  with  the  report  of  the  battle  of  Green 
River,  more  a  death-trap  than  a  battle  it  had 
been,  for  on  that  day  '  some  one  had  blundered  ' 
as  egregiously  as  at  the  Charge  of  the  Light 
Brigade,  and  with  effect  almost  as  disastrous. 

"  The  courier  stated  that  Morgan,  with  the 
remnant  of  his  men,  was  marching  on  Lebanon, 


Juletty 

and  immediately  soldiers  and  citizens  were 
thrown  into  the  direst  panic.  I  do  not  think 
I  have  ever  seen  such  abject  terror:  Kentuck- 
ians  who  had  taken  no  active  part  in  the  war, 
but  were  what  were  called  Union  sympathizers, 
were  as  terrified  at  the  approach  of  the  Con- 
federates as  though  they  had  been  fiends  incar- 
nate rather  than  brother  Kentuckians,  and  ran 
hither  and  thither  in  disorder,  endeavoring  to 
make  plans  for  the  safety  of  themselves  and 
their  households. 

"As  I  told  you,  I  was  only  fifteen  years  old, 
and  you  doubtless  know  that  boys  of  that  age 
have  no  sense  of  fear  whatever.  I  tell  you 
what  I  believe :  I  could  take  a  regiment  of  boys, 
from  twelve  to  seventeen  years  of  age,  charge 
ten  times  their  number  of  veterans  of  a  hun- 
dred battles,  and  lick  them  every  one  ;  they'd 
fight  till  the  last  one  was  killed,  and  see  and 
know  nothing  but  the  man  ahead  of  them. 
Well,  however  that  may  be,  I  was  not  afraid ; 
far  from  it :  I  was  more  than  pleased  that 
Morgan,  the  hero  of  all  Kentucky  boys,  was 
on  his  road  to  our  town.  I  had  long  had 
high  aspirations  for  joining  him,  had  in  truth 
run  off  twice  to  do  so,  but  was  caught  and 
00 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

brought  back  each  time  by  my  father,  and  I 
felt  pretty  sure  that  with  the  old  folks  away 
my  ambition  would  be  realized. 

"  So  it  was  that  I  looked  forward  with  pleas- 
antest  anticipations  to  his  arrival,  and  with 
that  thought  retired  early  the  night  of  the 
Fourth  of  July  that  I  might  be  astir  promptly 
the  following  morning,  when  I  had  every  hope 
that  the  Confederates  might  have  reached  us. 
The  heavy  sleep  of  healthy  youth  held  me  fast 
all  that  night  through — by  the  way,  wouldn't 
I  like  to  sleep  like  that  now  ?  But  at  the  very 
gray  of  the  dawning  a  mocking-bird,  that  had 
nested  in  a  cherry  tree  at  my  window,  called 
to  me  in  such  sweet  irresistibleness  of  wooing 
that  my  drowsy  eyelids  opened  and  I  imme- 
diately sprang  from  my  bed.  All  the  rosy 
banners  of  the  day  floated  in  the  East,  and 
yellow-liveried  couriers  were  heralding  the 
approach  of  the  sun ;  dozens  of  cat-birds  were 
twittering  fretfully  at  the  mocker  for  having 
disturbed  their  slumbers,  and  the  sparrows, 
as  usual,  chirped  of  incessant  hunger.  I  am 
particular  to  tell  you  just  how  the  dawning 
impressed  me  with  its  sense  of  perfect  peace 
and  security,  because  in  recalling  it  that  part 
9* 


Juletty 

appeals  especially  to  my  memory  :  peace,  rest, 
quiet,  happiness  at  the  daybreak,  succeeded 
later  by  battle,  hurry,  pandemonium,  terror. 
The  negroes  had  been  rushing  about,  I  don't 
know  how  long — you  know  a  nigger  don't  think 
that  night  was  made  for  sleep,  but  for  frolic — 
and  when  I  came  downstairs  breakfast  was 
ready ;  but,  early  as  it  was,  we  were  scarcely 
seated  at  the  table  when  guests  began  to 
arrive.  They  came  by  dozens  and  scores, 
breathless  with  running  and  pallid  from  fright ; 
mothers  came  leading  the  children  that  were 
large  enough  to  walk,  and  carrying  the  babies 
in  their  arms.  It  was  no  hardship  to  the  little 
ones,  but  they  seemed  delighted  with  a  visit  to 
a  place  where  Murillo  cherries  hung  black  and 
thick  on  full  many  a  tree.  It  had  been  sug- 
gested to  these  poor  frightened  ones  that  the 
brick  walls  of  the  dwelling  at  Myrtledene 
would  afford  protection,  for  it  was  well  known 
that  they  were  twenty-one  inches  through. 
Had  they  stopped  to  think,  they  would  have 
known  that  the  top  of  a  hill  is  a  vain  place  for 
safety  in  time  of  battle,  for  the  shots  are  almost 
invariably  fired  too  high,  and  should  that  be 
the  case  this  time  the  house  would  prove  a 
92 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

veritable  target,  as  its  first  floors  were  on  a 
level  with  the  tops  of  the  highest  buildings  in 
the  town  below. 

"  But  they  had  no  time  for  thought,  or,  per- 
haps, did  not  know  this,  and  the  stream  of 
people  continued  to  pour  in  till  five  or  six 
hundred  were  packed  into  the  various  rooms, 
and  then  some  over-zealous  soul  thought  of 
the  large  cellar.  They  came  to  me  and  asked 
for  the  key,  which  I  readily  gave  up  to  them, 
and  the  most  timorous  of  the  crowd  sought 
safety  down  there. 

"Among  the  very  first  of  the  number  to 
go  down  was  a  handsome,  dashing  young  Fed- 
eral captain.  I  am  confident  that  a  man  was 
never  nearer  frightened  literally  to  death  than 
the  gallant  captain  ;  he  was  white  as  a  sheet, 
and  his  trembling  made  his  sword  dance  a  jig 
in  its  scabbard,  so  that,  like  the  old  woman 
with  rings  on  her  fingers  and  bells  on  her 
toes,  the  captain  had  music  wherever  he  went. 
Talking  was  a  tremulous  business  with  him, 
but  he  did  manage  to  put  up  a  plea  to  some 
of  his  friends  to  change  clothes  with  him,  but 
the  favor  was  respectfully  declined,  though  I 
heard  no  thanks. 

93 


Juletty 

"  Failing,  therefore,  in  his  scheme  for  a  dis- 
guise, he  sought  the  cellar  and  stayed  there, 
cowering  behind  the  skirts  of  the  women  each 
time  the  cellar  door  opened  to  admit  another 
scared  individual.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  suddenly 
grown  considerably  when  I  found  myself  host 
of  so  many  guests,  and  ran  about  gayly  intent 
on  hospitable  duties,  and  issuing  orders  to 
Tenie  and  Maria,  the  cooks,  to  have  something 
for  the  crowd  to  eat. 

"  You  may  be  sure  Hanson  had  been  busy  all 
this  time,  and  had  stationed  pickets  at  all  en- 
trances to  the  town.  Now,  if  you  remember, 
Myrtledene  faces  that  point  on  Spalding 
Avenue  where  the  Springfield  and  St.  Rose 
pikes  converge,  and,  with  the  intention  of 
guarding  these  two  pikes,  sentries  had  been 
placed  on  our  lawn,  in  the  far  corner  of  which 
stood  the  carriage-house.  It  was  behind  this 
house  that  a  little  blue-coated  picket,  terribly 
excited,  settled  himself  for  his  watch.  My 
heart  sank  within  me  when  I  saw  him  and  his 
full  cartridge-belt,  for  I  thought  if  Morgan 
should  discover  him  on  the  lawn,  and  the  poor, 
trembling  captain  in  the  cellar,  there  would  be 
no  power  to  save  the  house  from  being  burned. 
94 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

Of  course  I  wanted  to  take  better  care  than 
that  of  property  left  in  my  charge,  and  so  I 
appealed  to  the  little  Yankee  to  locate  across 
the  street  from  us,  urging  that  he  afford  the 
women  and  children  in  the  house  the  assured 
protection  of  his  absence.  I  couldn't  do  a  thing 
with  him,  however ;  a  little  brief  authority  had 
swollen  his  head,  and  he  scorned  the  advice  of 
a  schoolboy.  While  I  still  stood  talking  with 
him,  my  schoolmate  and  chum,  Bob  Clellick, 
came  running  from  town  with  news  that  the 
"  Rebels  "  were  on  us,  and  had  already  reached 
his  house,  which  stood  in  the  suburbs,  on  the 
Campbellsville  pike,  almost  at  a  right  angle 
from  Myrtledene.  Then  we  heard  the  meas- 
ured beat,  beat,  beat  of  the  drum,  and,  mount- 
ing to  our  roof,  could  see  them  marching.  What 
cared  we  that  the  bullets  were  whizzing,  with 
their  dull  swish,  past  our  ears,  and  death  was 
in  each  of  them,  as  long  as  we  saw  that  inspiring 
sight  of  men  in  battle  array !  Like  some  huge 
gray  serpent,  with  its  tail  fastened  in  place, 
they  uncoiled  into  line,  and,  dropping  the  im- 
peding fences,  crossed  the  fields  and  proceeded 
to  surround  the  town.  It  was  to  me  a  most 
fascinating  spectacle  ;  from  the  Campbellsville 

95 


Juletty 

to  the  St.  Mary's  pike  the  battle  was  on,  though 
it  interfered  no  whit  with  the  movements  of 
that  writhing  gray  serpent  that  stoically  wrig- 
gled on  across  the  green  fields.  Over  the 
Graham  place,  thence  across  the  Rogers  farm, 
it  crept,  and  came  measuredly  down  the  St. 
Rose  pike,  straight  toward  Myrtledene.  It  was 
then,  to  my  great  wrath  and  indignation,  that 
the  little  sentry  at  the  carriage-house  got  in  his 
bit  of  work.  He'd  dart  out,  fire  at  the  advanc- 
ing column,  bring  down  his  man  either  wounded 
or  dead,  and  dart  back  to  hide  and  load  up 
again.  As  soon  as  I  realized  what  he  was  up 
to,  I  left  the  roof  and  went  to  him.  I  coaxed, 
cajoled,  ordered,  swore,  cried,  to  get  him  to 
stop  the  dirty  job,  but  all  to  no  avail.  He  fired 
several  shots  even  as  I  stood  there  talking  to 
him,  and  then  to  my  great  relief  his  ammuni- 
tion gave  out,  and  he  fled  to  town  for  more, 
thus  saving  his  measly  little  neck,  which 
the  Confederates  would,  rightly  enough,  have 
stretched  had  they  discovered  him. 

"  Scarcely  had  he  got  out  of  sight  when  two 

of  the  soldiers  in  gray  stopped  at  the  fence  and 

dismounted  ;  one   of  them   was   a   great,  big, 

handsome  fellow,  who  was  laughing  and  talking 

96 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

merrily,  though  I  noticed  he  kept  one  arm 
pressed  stiffly  around  his  bowels,  and  I  soon 
learned  it  was  to  hold  them  in  place. 

"  A  shot  had  struck  him  in  the  side  and  ranged 
across  his  abdomen,  absolutely  disembowelling 
him  except  for  that  protecting  arm.  The  other 
was  a  slight,  wiry,  nervous  man,  whose  face  was 
ashen  from  pain,  though  I  could  see  no  evi- 
dence of  a  wound  about  him,  except  that  he 
limped  sadly.  He  asked  for  the  support  of 
my  shoulder  in  walking,  and  I  gave  it  to  him 
gladly,  only  too  willing  to  propitiate  them  in 
any  way  I  could,  lest  they  seek  revenge  on  that 
death-spitting  little  rifle  by  burning  the  house. 
I  soon  had  them  both  seated  on  their  blankets 
under  a  large  oak  that  grew  to  the  right  of  the 
centre  of  the  lawn  ;  the  fellow,  whose  bleeding 
entrails  were  hard  to  keep  in  place  and  made 
him  a  ghastly  sight,  kept  up  his  joking  and 
laughing,  while  the  other,  apparently  so  little 
hurt,  moaned,  groaned,  and  cursed  his  fate. 

" '  Where  are  you  hurt  ?  '  I  asked  him. 

"  With  my  assistance  he  answered  by  pulling 

off  his  ragged  shoe  and  showing  in  his  sockless 

foot  a  bullet  hole ;  the  ball  had  penetrated  the 

outer  ankle  bone  of  his  right  foot.    It  seemed 

7  97 


Juletty 

to  me  a  small  and  insignificant  wound,  and  I 
so  told  him. 

"  '  But,  oh,  my  God  !  how  it  does  hurt ! '  he 
groaned. 

"  '  Have  you  got  any  whiskey  in  the  house, 
Bud  ?  If  there  is  any  there,  for  the  love  of 
Heaven  bring  it  to  me.' 

"  There  was  a  full  demijohn  in  the  hall  closet, 
and  I  had  not  liked  that  it  should  be  known, 
fearing  the  crowd  might  use  it,  but  the  man's 
intensity  of  suffering  was  more  than  I  could 
bear  to  see  without  some  attempt  to  alleviate 
it.  So,  attracting  as  little  attention  to  my 
movements  as  possible,  I  slipped  into  the  little 
closet  under  the  stairway  and  secured  a  brim- 
ming glass  of  the  liquor,  which  I  brought  out 
to  the  two.  They  swallowed  it  greedily,  and 
lay  back  on  their  blankets  more  quietly  ;  but 
they  had  not  long  to  stay  there.  In  a  few 
hours  their  comrades  had  time  to  come  for 
them,  and  they  were  removed  and  made  com- 
fortable at  the  Presbyterian  church,  which  had 
been  converted  into  a  hospital  for  wounded 
and  sick  soldiers.  And,  sir,  it's  hard  to  believe, 
but  in  three  days  the  fellow  with  the  mite  of  a 
hole  in  his  ankle  was  dead  of  lockjaw,  while 
98 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

the  other,  who  had  his  bowels  shot  out  of  him, 
joined  his  command  inside  of  three  weeks.  As 
soon  as  the  Confederates  had  found  it  possible 
to  do  so  they  had  placed  a  small  cannon  imme- 
diately in  front  of  the  gate  at  Myrtledene, 
some  hundred  yards  from  the  house,  and  it 
was  kept  firing  as  rapidly  as  it  could  be  dis- 
charged and  reloaded.  A  Mrs.  Hibbard,  wife 
of  a  Yankee  colonel,  was  in  a  bedroom  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  as  fast  as  the  cannon  fired  she 
fainted  ;  the  promptness  with  which  she  keeled 
over  at  each  shot  would  have  been  ludicrous 
had  we  not  been  too  excited  to  see  the  absurd- 
ity of  it.  I  was  much  exercised  lest  the  con- 
stant jar  should  injure  the  walls  of  the  house, 
and  went  around  to  a  rear  porch  to  consult  my 
stepmother  as  to  what  I  should  do  in  regard 
to  it.  She  sat  there,  eating  peaches,  as  coolly 
as  if  battles  were  a  part  of  her  daily  life,  talking 
baby  nonsense  to  an  infant  child  of  Colonel 
Hibbard's  that  lay  on  a  quilt  at  the  end  of  the 
porch.  She  was  a  beautiful  baby,  and,  like  all 
people,  I  was  attracted  by  her,  and  whistled  as 
I  passed,  and  snapped  my  fingers  at  her ;  she 
cooed  and  laughed,  and  held  out  her  little 
hands.  I  returned  in  a  few  moments,  and  was 
99 


Juletty 

just  in  time  to  see  a  great,  burly  fellow  urging  his 
horse  with  whip  and  spur  onto  the  porch,  and 
saw  him  succeed  in  riding  immediately  over 
the  laughing  child ;  but  the  horse,  being  the 
gentler  of  the  two  brutes,  stepped  carefully 
over  her,  and  the  child  was  not  hurt. 

"  My  blood  boiled  as  I  snatched  the  little 
creature  up  and  tossed  her  into  a  woman's 
arms;  then  I  turned  and  caught  the  wretch's 
bridle,  and  with  the  strong  arm  of  a  farmer  boy 
backed  his  horse  off  the  porch.  He  was  furi- 
ous at  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  my  '  cussed 
interference,'  swore  at  me  viciously,  and  finally, 
when  he  found  I  was  too  much  in  earnest  to 
be  bullied,  pulled  his  pistol  from  his  pocket 
and  snapped  it  in  my  face.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  looked  down  the  muzzle  of  a 
revolver  when  it  was  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy, 
and  I  was  no  end  glad  when  it  only  flashed  in 
the  pan  because  of  wet  powder.  But  by  that 
time  the  wrath  of  my  self-possessed  young 
stepmother  was  blazing,  and  she  sprang  to  her 
feet  and  cried  indignantly:  'If  you  hurt  that 
boy  I  will  see  that  you  suffer  severely  for  it. 
I  will  go  to  John  Morgan  myself ;  he  is  my 
cousin,  and  he  will  see  that  I  am  given  justice.' 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

"  Her  words  and  the  threat  to  inform  Mor- 
gan of  his  ill-conduct  carried  weight,  and  the 
scoundrel  turned  his  horse  and,  still  swearing, 
left  us  in  peace.  I  afterward  learned  from 
Morgan's  chief  surgeon  that  the  fellow  was 
one  St.  Leger,  either  a  Frenchman  or  an 
Englishman,  my  informant  did  not  remember 
which.  This  surgeon  also  told  me  that  he 
could  not  at  all  understand  St.  Leger's  conduct 
on  that  day,  as  he  had  found  him  as  brave  a 
man  as  he  ever  saw,  and  always  respectful  to 
women. 

"  After  this  little  episode  my  chum  Bob  and 
I  went  back  to  the  roof,  which  we  had  entirely 
to  ourselves,  the  older  men  having  no  fancy  to 
have  bullets  constantly  zoo,  zoo,  zooing  about 
their  heads.  The  distance  to  the  battle  was 
such  that  we  only  saw  the  direst  confusion,  and 
nothing  at  all  satisfactory,  so  that  when  it 
ceased,  except  for  an  occasional  shot,  Bob  pro- 
posed that  I  accompany  him,  and  we  would  go 
across  a  field  or  two  that  intervened  and  reach 
his  home,  where  he  had  every  reason  to  believe 
the  battle  had  been  hottest.  I  immediately 
agreed  to  do  so,  for  there  was  no  resisting  the 
temptation  to  get  a  closer  view,  and  we  de- 


Juletty 

scended  to  solid  ground  once  more,  where  the 
news  greeted  us  that  the  Yankees  had  surren- 
dered and  Morgan  was  in  possession  of  the 
town.  This  more  than  pleased  me ;  but  Bob 
was  a  little  dubious  as  to  what  might  follow. 
I  felt  rather  uneasy  as  to  what  would  become 
of  the  place  in  the  absence  of  so  powerful  a 
protector  as  myself,  but  I  was  simply  bound  to 
go  with  Bob,  and  see  what  was  doing  and  what 
had  been  done  in  that  part  of  the  world  whence 
had  come  that  babel  of  fighting  all  day.  We 
announced  our  intention  to  a  few  women  who 
questioned  us  about  it,  and  with  tears  they 
warned  us  against  the  foolhardy  freak;  but  we 
were  not  to  be  deterred,  and  went  on  across 
the  fields  to  the  new  depot  that  was  then  the 
terminus  of  the  Louisville  and  Nashville  Rail- 
way, recently  run  to  Lebanon.  Exaggerated 
reports  of  the  vast  and  bitter  Union  sentiment 
had  reached  the  ears  of  the  Confederates  before 
they  reached  the  town,  and  they  were  bent  on 
doing  all  the  damage  they  possibly  could  to 
personal  property.  This  they  resolved  on  with- 
out the  consent  of  their  officers,  who,  as  soon  as 
they  were  made  cognizant  of  the  fact,  put  a  stop 
to  it.  But  they  were  still  looting  when  Bob 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

and  I  crossed  the  street  near  the  depot,  and  we 
saw  men  with  bolts  of  ribbon  and  calico  tied  to 
their  saddles  or  pinned  to  their  hats,  and  floating 
out  on  the  breeze  as  they  galloped  their  horses 
at  a  mad  pace  up  and  down  the  roads.  Uncut 
cans  of  all  sorts  of  eatables  had  been  thrown 
about,  and  to  our  delectation  we  discovered  a 
large  box  of  raisins  that  had  been  tossed  away 
after  a  few  bunches  had  been  taken  out.  Bob 
caught  it  up  in  delight,  and  went  for  it,  saying: 
'  I  never  did  have  as  many  raisins  as  I  could 
eat  in  my  life,  and  now  I'll  remedy  the  matter.' 
And  he  did.  It  truly  appeared  that  the  brothers 
would  destroy  what  the  invaders  had  left.  We 
passed  the  depot  and  walked  down  the  railway 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards,  perhaps,  and  then 
left  it  to  spring  lightly  across  a  little  brook  that 
rippled  along  between  its  grassy  banks,  still 
babbling  sweetly  of  the  peace  it  had  left  in  the 
hills,  as  though  it  had  not  witnessed  strife  and 
bloodshed  on  that  fair  day.  Do  you  know,  I 
can't  help  noticing  those  things  and  fancying 
that  mother  Nature  means  them  as  gentle 
rebukes  to  her  human  children  for  their  many 
wrongdoings.  If  Bob  noticed  it  he  said 
nothing  about  it,  and  for  that  matter  neither 
103 


Juletty 

did  I,  but  we  both  went  plodding  along,  pretty 
hot  by  the  time  we  reached  the  plank  fence 
which  enclosed  the  small  meadow  that  lay  at 
the  foot  of  the  precipitous  hill  on  whose  top 
Bob's  home  was  situated.  When  we  got  that 
far  we  were  glad  to  stop  half-way  over  and  sit 
on  the  top  plank  for  a  long  breath,  and  to  fan 
ourselves  with  our  straw  hats.  The  day  was  as 
hot  as  if  straight  from  sheol.  Scarcely  were 
we  seated  when  the  most  deafening  report  that 
had  that  day  saluted  my  ears  split  the  air,  and 
we  were  knocked  from  our  perches  on  the 
fence  and  sent  reeling  for  at  least  twenty 
paces. 

"  I  wondered  if  we  were  killed  ;  and  if  we  were 
killed  I  wondered  what  had  done  it.  On  feel- 
ing ourselves  and  waking  thoroughly  from  the 
shock  we  had  experienced  we  found  we  were 
not  at  all  hurt,  and  proceeded  to  inquire  into 
the  cause  of  the  explosion.  The  Confederates 
were  destroying  what  Federal  ammunition  and 
guns  they  could  not  carry  with  them,  and  that 
hideous  din  that  had  been  so  nearly  the  death 
of  us  was  occasioned  by  the  bursting  of  a  small 
brass  cannon  which  the  soldiers  had  turned 
over  from  the  railway,  and  a  piece  of  which 
104 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

had  struck  the  top  plank  of  the  panel  of  fence 
next  the  one  on  which  we  were  seated,  tearing 
it  completely  in  pieces  and  shocking  us  se- 
verely. It  was  a  pretty  close  call,  as  you  will 
see,  and  it  sobered  us  more  than  any  of  the 
events  that  had  preceded  it  on  that  very 
eventful  day.  It  was  therefore  with  slower 
steps  we  climbed  that  steep  hillside  and  en- 
tered cautiously  the  parson's  back  yard.  It 
was  in  front  of  his  gate  that  the  battle  had 
begun  and  had  waged  fiercest,  and  we  did  not 
know  how  many  more  cannon  might  be  ready 
to  burst  thereabouts.  We  peeped  ahead  care- 
fully, and  went  half  on  tip-toe  till  we  got 
around  the  corner  of  the  house,  where  we  saw 
a  spectacle  so  pitiful  that  we  forgot  all  caution. 
Stretched  on  the  ground,  under  a  great  aspen 
tree  that  grew  beside  the  carriage  drive  im- 
mediately opposite  the  door,  lay  a  ragged,  di- 
shevelled boy ;  he  could  not  have  been  more 
than  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old.  His  arms 
were  tossed  easily  above  his  head  as  if  in  sleep, 
and  his  dusty  gray  cap  had  fallen  off,  so  that 
the  laughing  wind  played  lightly  with  the 
auburn  curls  that  clustered  in  a  thousand  rings 
about  his  shapely  head  and  broad,  fair  brow. 
105 


Juletty 

"  There  were  scarcely  any  soles  to  his  dusty 
shoes,  and  the  linen  that  he  wore,  though  fine 
and  dainty  originally,  was  soiled  and  frayed. 
But  however  much  the  march  and  stain  of 
battle  had  besmirched  him,  there  could  be  no 
doubt  but  that  he  had  been  tenderly  reared 
and  cared  for ;  it  was  written  large  upon  him. 
Some  mother's  darling  he  surely  was ;  and  soft 
mother  lips  had  many  times  kissed  close  in  slum- 
ber the  half-open  lids  that  now  revealed  a  pair 
of  brown  eyes  staring  piteously.  I  stepped 
softly  over  the  grass  to  his  side  and  took  up 
the  dusty,  worn  cap,  to  place  it  as  a  shield 
over  his  eyes,  when  I  saw  for  the  first  time  a 
small,  dark  spot  just  between  the  delicate  line 
of  his  eyebrows  ;  it  was  a  bullet  hole  no  larger 
than  the  tip  of  my  smallest  finger,  and  through 
it  protruded  a  bloody  bit  of  gray.  He  was 
dead.  But  I  knelt  beside  him,  and  laid  my  ear 
close  against  his  breast,  listening  for  the  heart- 
throbs I  knew  I  would  not  hear,  and  looked 
intently  at  the  still  smiling,  beardless  lips  as 
though  I  hoped  he  might  speak,  though  I 
knew  they  would  never  move  again  in  boyish 
laughter  or  to  whisper  '  mother '  to  the  ear 
that  deemed  that  sound  the  sweetest  of  the 
106 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

world.  She  would  not  know,  might  never 
know,  how  he  had  died,  or  where ;  she  would 
not  know  that  his  had  been  a  hero's  death, 
and  she  would  watch  and  long  for  him  till 
time  would  kill  the  hope  and  break  her  faith- 
ful heart. 

"  Oh,  how  the  pity  of  it  all  swept  over  me  ! 

"  And  kneeling  there,  my  head  upon  his 
breast,  I  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Bob  touched  me  on  the  shoulder — dear  old 
Bob,  who  said  so  little  and  felt  and  did  so 
much. 

"  '  Let's  take  him  in,'  he  said, '  and  fix  him  up 
a  little  and  ask  father  to  make  a  sort  of  preach 
over  him  and  bury  him  like  a  gentleman.' 

"  Bob's  father  was  the  pastor  of  the  church 
that  had  been  turned  into  a  soldiers'  hospital, 
and  we  boys  knew  he  could  be  depended  on  to 
do  the  right  and  kindly  thing  for  the  young 
fellow.  I  couldn't  speak  ;  the  vision  of  the 
boy's  waiting  mother  was  too  literally  present 
with  me  for  that ;  but  I  got  up  from  my  knees, 
and  we  lifted  the  boy  between  us,  I  taking  the 
head  in  my  arms  as  gently  as  if  he  had  been 
my  only  brother  whom  I  worshipped.  Bob 
slipped  his  strong  young  arms  under  the  poor, 

107 


Juletty 

limp  knees,  and  together  we  bore  him  into  the 
hallway  of  the  manse  and  laid  him  on  the 
floor.  I  was  rather  uncertain  what  should  be 
the  next  step  in  our  plan,  but  Bob  was  not  at 
all  so  ;  he  meant  what  he  had  said,  and  was 
going  to  lay  the  dead  in  the  parlor.  So  when 
we  had  placed  him  momentarily  on  the  hall 
floor,  Bob  advanced  and  opened  the  parlor 
door  to  take  him  in  there  ;  but  after  doing  so  he 
hesitated,  as  if  he  had  met  with  a  surprise.  I 
advanced  to  his  side  and  looked  over  his 
shoulder  ;  death  was  already  there. 

"  Three  or  four  chairs  had  been  placed  side  by 
side  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  stretched 
on  the  improvised  bier  lay  a  dead-  Confederate 
soldier. 

"  Like  all  of  Morgan's  command  that  day,  he 
was  shabbily  clad,  dusty,  and  unclean. 

"  These  men  were  willing  not  only  to  die 
(that  is  a  little  thing),  but  to  suffer  all  things 
for  the  cause  they  loved. 

"  A  blood-stain  on  the  shirt-front  of  the 
soldier  showed  where  he  had  been  shot;  it 
was  through  his  true,  loyal  heart. 

"  There  were  six  or  eight  men  in  the  room,  but 
they  sat  around  in  moody  silence,  not  knowing 

108 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

what  to  do,  either  with  themselves  or  with  the 
dead.  A  movement  of  relief  went  through  the 
party  when  Bob  and  I  put  in  our  appearance, 
and  one  of  the  men  beckoned  to  me.  I  went 
to  him,  and  he  inquired  : 

"  '  Do  you  live  in  this  house  ?  ' 

"'No,'!  told  him ;'  but  my  friend  does,' 
and  I  called  Bob  to  him. 

"  '  Bub,'  he  said,  when  Bob  came  respectfully 
near,  '  we  want  to  lay  this  man  out  decently ; 
he's  Tom  Morgan,  General  John  Morgan's 
younger  brother,  and  as  brave  a  boy  as  ever 
died  for  his  country  and  his  rights.  Can't  you 
bring  us  some  water  and  towels?  ' 

"  The  man  had  almost  broken  down  when  he 
called  his  young  leader  by  name,  and  when  he 
ceased  speaking  he  drew  the  back  of  his  hand 
across  his  eyes. 

"  Bob  assured  him  that  he  would  have  the 
best  the  house  afforded,  and  soon  brought  it 
forth  in  abundance. 

"  The  fact  that  the  dead  man  was  General 
Morgan's  brother  aroused  our  keenest  interest, 
as  I  have  said.  Morgan  was  the  Kentucky 
boy's  beau-ideal  of  all  that  a  soldier  should  be 
in  those  days.  So  after  we  had  brought  into 
109 


Juletty 

the  same  room  the  dead  boy  we  had  left  on  the 
floor  of  the  hall,  and  had  disposed  of  him  with 
all  the  care  we  could,  we  spent  the  time  watch- 
ing the  slower  motions  of  the  soldiers  engaged 
in  the  last  sad  duties  to  the  other  boy.  Tom 
Morgan  was  as  handsome  a  man  as  I  ever  put 
these  two  eyes  on  ;  a  mere  lad,  he  was,  but  a 
perfect  athlete  in  development ;  and  when  they 
had  stripped  him  for  his  last  bath,  he  lay  there 
like  a  marble  Apollo,  with  but  one  blemish 
about  him — the  wound  in  his  noble  heart. 

"  Of  course  nobody  knew  exactly  how  he  met 
his  death,  farther  than  it  was  from  a  Federal 
bullet  ;  and  there  have  been  many  surmises  as 
to  it.  Some  have  thought  that  he  was  killed 
by  a  glancing  bullet  which  had  first  struck  an 
iron  lamp-post  near  where  he  fell,  but  I  am 
satisfied  that  is  a  mistake.  I  formed  this 
opinion  from  the  nature  of  the  wound,  which 
I  had  ample  oportunity  to  examine  as  the 
men  worked  about  him.  I  think  he  was  walk- 
ing down  the  street,  and  was  facing  the  death- 
dealing  missile,  for  the  wound  was  very  small, 
and  the  bullet  must  have  entered  on  a  straight 
line  and  pierced  and  buried  itself  in  his  heart. 
After  the  men  had  brushed  with  utmost  care 
no 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

his  uniform  of  gray,  and  even  taken  a  few 
stitches  in  it,  it  was  put  back  on  him ;  the 
soiled  linen  had  previously  been  replaced  by 
some  that  Bob  had  brought  of  his  father's,  and 
then  one  of  the  men  opened  the  door  and  spoke 
in  low  tones  to  a  man  who  had  been  walking 
impatiently  up  and  down  in  the  hall  during 
the  time  we  had  been  busy  with  the  bodies. 

"  This  man  entered  the  room,  walked  close  to 
the  dead,  and  stood  a  minute  looking  at  him 
steadily ;  and  then,  burying  his  face  in  his 
hands,  he  shook  as  the  aspen  leaves  outside 
had  shaken  in  their  grief  over  the  other  un- 
known one. 

"  That  was  John  Morgan  weeping  for  his  dead 
young  brother.  In  a  few  moments  he  regained 
his  self-control,  and  again  began  that  stormy 
walk:  up  and  down,  up  and  down,  up  and 
down  he  strode.  He  had  marched  all  the  pre- 
ceding night,  had  fought  the  bloodiest  battle 
of  his  campaign  the  day  before,  and  had  ordered 
the  fight  that  day  without  rest  and  with  but 
little  food,  yet  his  agony  of  grief  had  made  him 
oblivious  to  fatigue,  and  he  tramped,  tramped, 
tramped,  like  a  newly  caged  lion.  Occasionally 
he  brought  his  clenched  fists  down  sharply  to 
in 


Juletty 

his  sides  and  muttered  through  his  grinding 
teeth  : 

"'I'll  make  them  pay  for  this,  damn  them! 
I'll  make  them  pay  for  it.' 

"  At  last  he  threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside 
the  humble  bier,  and  clasped  the  still,  unrespon- 
sive figure  in  his  great,  strong  arms,  and  gave 
way  to  all  the  passionate  outburst  of  his  feeling. 

"  '  A  hundred  thousand  of  their  cursed  lives 
cannot  atone  for  this,  my  brother,  my  little 
brother,  I  was  to  care  for  and  bring  safe  home! 
Oh,  Tom,  Tom,  how  can  I  tell  our  mother?' 

"  I  never  want  to  see  misery  like  that  again. 

"  We  buried  both  the  boys  that  evening  in  the 
parson's  garden,  side  by  side.  I  do  not  know 
whether  they  have  been  removed  elsewhere  or 
not,  but  I  suppose  they  have ;  at  least  I  fancy 
Morgan  was  taken  away.  But  I  hope  if  it  is  so 
that  they  took  the  other  friendless  one  also, 
and  that  they  still  sleep  together,  for  they  were 
a  gallant  pair.  That  evening,  to  the  great  horror 
of  the  citizens,  Morgan  ordered  that  the  town 
should  be  burned.  He  was  so  frenzied  with 
grief  and  rage  at  his  brother's  death  that  he 
was  really  scarcely  accountable  for  what  he  did. 
There  was  no  need  to  urge  it;  the  soldiers  were 

112 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

almost  as  enraged  as  their  general,  and  they  at 
once  set  to  work  to  carry  out  his  orders  in  the 
matter,  and  several  dwellings  were  destroyed 
by  fire.  But  they  either  failed  to  inquire,  and 
so  do  their  work  in  some  sort  of  systematic 
way,  or  else  there  was  no  partisan  feeling  what- 
ever in  what  they  did,  for  about  the  first  house 
that  they  set  fire  to  was  the  property  of  a 
woman  who  was  as  devoted  to  the  South  as 
any  one  of  the  whole  brave  band  of  women 
who  gave  money,  time,  and  labor  to  the  Lost 
Cause. 

"  Wiser  counsel,  however,  prevailed  with  the 
general  later  in  the  evening,  and  the  order  for 
the  burning  was  countermanded  in  time  to 
save  Myrtledene,  the  property  of  your  old 
friend,  and  it  sustained  no  farther  injury  than  a 
few  broken  windows  and  a  shattered  lattice.  It 
was  an  almost  miraculous  escape,  too,  when  one 
considers  how  it  was  situated  and  surrounded. 

"  But  to  the  amusement  of  the  entire  com- 
munity, the  redoubtable  captain,  of  cellar  noto- 
riety, was  too  badly  frightened  to  emerge  from 
his  subterranean  abode  for  the  next  several 
days,  even  after  all  possible  danger  had  passed, 
and  my  sister  took  his  meals  down  to  him  three 
8  113 


Juletty 

times  a  day,  and  caused  the  negroes  to  arrange 
a  comfortable  cot  there  for  him  to  sleep  on. 

"  The  following  morning  Morgan  left  Lebanon 
and  went  on  through  Springfield,  which  road, 
you  will  remember,  took  him  immediately  past 
the  gate  at  Myrtledene.  Black  folks  and  white 
folks  assembled  at  the  front  to  watch  the  men 
go  by,  and  he  had  a  large  number  of  Yankee 
prisoners.  These  were  put  in  line  on  foot,  be- 
tween the  rows  of  Confederate  cavalry,  and  I 
tell  you  they  drove  them  at  a  pretty  good  gait. 
The  broken-down  condition  of  the  horses  of 
the  Confederates  was  such  that  they  could  not 
much  more  than  get  up  a  trot,  though  that 
made  lively  walking  for  the  Federal  infantry." 

"Well,"  interrupted  my  grandfather,  draw- 
ing a  deep  sigh  that  was  evidence  of  the  sincere 
interest  he  had  felt  in  his  guest's  narration  of 
the  events  of  the  memorable  day  in  Lebanon — 
"  well,  I  wish  Morgan  hadn't  done  that ;  there 
was  no  need  for  such  inhumanity  as  driving 
prisoners  afoot  that  hot  July  weather,  and  for 
a  distance  of  nine  miles  too." 

"  Right  there  is  where  you  are  mistaken,  my 
friend.  There  was  the  direst  need  in  the 
world ;  the  Federal  hosts  were  coming  in  full 
114 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

force  to  the  relief  of  the  town.  Morgan's  men 
were  exhausted  and  their  numbers  were  de- 
pleted and  wholly  unfit  for  further  fighting  just 
then,  so  that  leaving  the  place  was  a  necessity. 
As  to  taking  the  prisoners  on  foot,  there  was 
only  a  choice  left  between  taking  them  in  that 
way  or  leaving  them  behind  altogether — a 
course  he  certainly  could  not  have  been  ex- 
pected to  pursue.  His  own  men  were  poorly 
mounted ;  sometimes,  indeed,  there  were  two 
soldiers  to  one  horse,  and  that  made  it  impos- 
sible to  mount  the  Federals.  I  fancy  had  many 
another  man  been  in  Morgan's  place  they  would 
have  fared  much  worse  than  they  did  ;  they 
had  given  provocation  enough,  Heaven  knows. 
There  had  been  some  grievous  outrages  per- 
petrated in  the  South  just  at  that  time  by 
Federals ;  women  had  been  grossly  insulted, 
and  prisoners  most  foully  dealt  with.  His 
brother's  death  certainly  did  not  tend  to  soften 
him  on  that  particular  occasion,  and,  taken  all 
in  all,  I  have  no  kick  against  what  he  did. 
Never  did  a  more  capable  or  gallant  cavalry- 
man sit  in  a  saddle,  and  he  commanded  the 
bravest  regiment  that  ever  fired  a  volley — he- 
roes every  one." 

"5 


Juletty 

"Morgan  was  from  the  Blue  Grass  himself, 
but  I  believe  he  had  a  large  number  of  men 
from  the  Pennyrile,  did  he  not  ?  " 

"  That's  what  he  did.  And  the  very  blossom 
of  the  Pennyrile,  too.  His  surgeon  was  a  Leb- 
anon man,  and  the  night  after  the  battle  he 
supped  with  my  father  at  Myrtledene.  The 
whole  family  sat  open-mouthed  and  open-eyed 
till  late  bedtime  as  he  spun  us  yarns  about 
the  affairs  he  had  witnessed  in  the  raid,  as 
some  people  choose  to  call  Morgan's  triumphal 
march.  He  had  so  lately  witnessed  the  bloody 
affair  at  Green  River  he  could  scarcely  talk 
about  it ;  but  I  remember  one  incident  he  re- 
lated at  which  we  every  one  laughed  and  cried 
together.  He  said  that  in  some  skirmish  he 
had  ridden  alone  some  distance,  having  been 
left  behind  to  care  for  the  wounded,  and  when 
he  caught  up  with  the  regiment  he  found  it  in 
disorder.  The  first  man  he  could  speak  with 
was  Hunt,  of  Lexington.  He  said  when  he 
came  up  with  Hunt  he  found  him  walking  up 
and  down  on  the  bank  of  a  little  ravine,  wring- 
ing his  hands  and  crying  aloud,  with  all  the 
demonstration  of  a  whipped  child.  He  rode  up 
to  him  and  asked,  with  a  great  deal  of  anxiety : 
116 


I  Hear  Personal  Reminiscences 

" '  Why,  Colonel  Hunt,  what  in  the  world  is 
the  matter?' 

"'  Matter! '  shouted  the  colonel,  turning  on 
the  doctor  with  all  the  desperation  of  tragedy, 
"  matter  !  Why,  I've  exhorted  my  men  till  I 
am  hoarse  and  worn  out,  and  they  won't  charge, 
damn  'em.' 

"  That  was  an  amazing  piece  of  information 
to  the  doctor ;  he  had  never  heard  of  any  diffi- 
culty in  getting  the  men  to  charge.  Wonder- 
ing what  the  trouble  could  be,  he  rode  a  little 
farther  along  to  a  turn  in  the  road,  and  there, 
not  far  away,  came  the  Federals — at  least  a 
thousand  of  them.  It  was  a  rather  perturbing 
sight,  with  the  assurance  from  the  colonel  that 
the  men  positively  refused  to  charge. 

"  He  rode  back,  and  looking  at  the  few  ragged, 
tired  soldiers  in  gray  collected  around  their 
commander,  decided  that  if  he  could  get  them 
together  he  would  try  to  rally  the  force. 

" '  Come,  colonel,'  he  said,  trying  to  infuse 
as  much  cheer  into  his  tones  as  he  could, '  how 
many  men  have  you  ?  ' 

"  The  colonel  was  still  sobbing,  and,  rubbing 
his  eyes,  he  looked  up.  '  There  they  are,'  he 
said  ;  '  I've  got  eleven  of  them,  the  gray  devils  ! 
"7 


Juletty 

And  do  what  I  may  they  won't  charge,  damn 
'em!' 

"  Eleven  ! 

"  Eleven  men  !  Eleven  tired,  broken,  hungry, 
tattered  soldiers.  And  weeping  that  they 
would  not  consent  to  drown  themselves  in 
that  blue  sea  that  was  advancing  in  billows  to 
obliterate  them  !  The  doctor  cried  as  he  told 
it,  but  laughed,  too,  at  the  pitiful,  the  pathetic 
absurdity  of  it." 

Grandfather  was  half  laughing,  half  crying, 
as  his  guest  told  him  the  story,  and  inquired 
at  its  close : 

"  Colonel  Hunt,  you  say?  I  suppose  that  he 
is  now  Judge  Hunt,  of  Lexington  ?  " 

"Yes;  the  same." 

"  Well,  that  being  the  man,  I  am  not  at  all 
surprised  at  his  tears  or  his  pluck;  in  fact,  the 
only  surprising  part  of  it  is  that  he  did  not 
succeed  in  getting  the  eleven  to  charge  as  he 
wished  them  to." 

That  story  was  the  last  I  wished  to  hear, 
•and  I  sank  asleep  on  my  sofa ;  and  when  I 
awakened  I  found  the  house  quiet  and  in  dark- 
ness, so  crept  off  to  bed. 


118 


CHAPTER  VI 

In  Which  the  Game  Traps  the  Hunter 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN  WHICH   THE  GAME  TRAPS  THE   HUNTER 

THOUGH  the  days  were  full  of  happiness  I 
was  not  therefore  idle,  but  was  constantly 
prosecuting  my  search  for  the  illicit  still,  or 
laying  plans  to  do  so.  I  confess  I  had  never 
found  myself  so  at  sea  for  clews ;  though  now 
and  then  some  suspicion  forced  itself  into  my 
mind  I  was  soon  compelled  to  abandon  it  on 
account  of  its  absurdity  or  impossibility.  I 
knew  it  would  require  some  pretty  shrewd 
detective  ability  to  unearth  a  man  with  whom 
a  whole  community  sympathized,  not  through 
lawlessness,  but  because  they  considered  him 
right  and  the  Government  mistaken.  Grand- 
father twitted  me  with  my  failure,  making  me 
more  resolute  in  my  determination  to  succeed. 

In  my  every  movement  Mitch  was  my  sworn 
ally ;  curiously  for  a  negro,  he  was  a  stanch 
temperance  man,  and  he  readily  assisted  me  to 
further  the  cause  he  advocated. 

121 


Juletty 

We  reached  the  same  conclusion,  which  was 
that  the  still  was  surely  hidden  in  one  of  the 
numerous  caves  that  underlie  that  entire  coun- 
try like  huge  natural  sewers,  and  my  ardor  in 
exploring  those  holes  in  the  ground  would 
have  won  a  decoration  from  any  self-respect- 
ing body  of  rats  or  moles. 

Mitch  met  me  one  sunny  day,  hat  in  hand, 
and  volunteered  to  lead  me  through  "  one  uv 
de  bigges'  ones  yit,"  so  with  luncheon  and 
torches  we  made  off.  I  felt  a  moment's  hesi- 
tancy when  he  stopped  at  a  hole  that  looked 
hardly  large  enough  to  admit  my  body,  and 
announced,  "  Thar  she  is." 

Then,  thinking  I  could  stand  it  if  Mitch 
could,  besides  being  rather  ashamed  to  back 
out  after  arousing  his  enthusiasm,  I  dropped 
on  hands  and  knees  and  crawled  in,  moving 
slowly  on  in  this  beastly  fashion.  Mitch,  who 
had  not  then  started,  declared,  "  This  is  yer 
las'  chanct,  Marse  Jack ;  dar  ain't  nary  nud- 
der  cave  eroun'  dis  country,  an'  ef  yer  don'  fin' 
her  ter-day  yer's  a  gone  coonskin  shore." 

"  If  that  is  true,  Mitch,  and  this  is  really  the 
only  cave  we  have  not  already  searched,  we 
will  find  that  still  right  here  and  now,  and  you 

122 


In  Which  the  Game  Traps  the  Hunter 

shall  have  the  Government  reward,  every  cent, 
Mitch,  for  your  faithful  work." 

A  low  chuckle  smote  upon  my  ears  as  day- 
light disappeared,  and  I  thought  I  heard  a 
voice  say,  "  Not  if  I  know  myself." 

So  sure  was  I  that  I  had  heard  the  grewsome 
laugh  and  speech  that  I  asked,  "  Did  you 
speak,  Mitch  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  I  ain't  said  nuffin' ;  whut  yer 
laughin'  at,  Marse  Jack?" 

I  was  not  mistaken,  then ;  I  had  heard  the 
chuckle  and  the  threat — the  laugh,  as  Mitch 
called  it — and  in  some  way  the  sounds  re- 
minded me  of  Al  Lincque. 

We  had  to  crawl  some  distance  through  the 
long,  narrow  throat  of  the  cavern,  and  I  had 
grown  impatient  of  the  cramped  position  be- 
fore we  reached  a  room  where  we  might  stand 
upright  once  more  and  light  our  torches.  Their 
red  glare  illuminating  the  darkness  revealed 
the  usual  sights  of  caves — stalactites,  stalag- 
mites, rocky  sides,  trickling  water,  gleaming 
quartz — but  no  trace  whatever  of  any  man 
having  been  there  before  us.  We  walked  on 
slowly,  for  I  enjoyed  the  sight  of  the  purity 
and  whiteness  of  the  unstained  walls,  and 
123 


Juletty 

thought  it  a  pity  that  devastating  man  should 
ever  despoil  them,  as  he  would  some  day.  We 
turned,  now  this  way,  now  that,  as  in  a  laby- 
rinth, and  had  not  Mitch  been  more  thought- 
ful than  I  and  fastened  a  ball  of  twine  at  the 
entrance  we  should  have  certainly  been  lost. 

We  had  trudged  about  for  some  time  when 
Mitch  paused  and  announced  positively :  "  Dar 
ain't  nary  bit  er  use'n  us  goin'  one  step  farder; 
kase  why,  ef  dat  ar  sarned  still  hed  eber  been 
hyar,  dar'd  er  been  dirt  an'  smoke  an'  truck 
all  erlong  dese  hyar  walls.  Min'  whut  I  done 
tole  yer,  mon,  dar  ain't  no  still  down  hyar." 

I  sighed,  but  had  to  agree  with  him  in  the 
face  of  such  evidence,  and  we  turned  and 
groped  our  way  back.  Suddenly  my  guide 
stopped.  "What  is  the  matter,  Mitch?"  I 
cried. 

The  darkey  turned  and  stared  at  me 
stupidly,  as  he  said  mysteriously,  "  I  don' 
know  whut's  de  matter,  Marse  Jack;  hyar's 
some'in  I  cain't  un'erstan'.  We  done  gotter 
de  en*  uv  de  twine,  but  dar  ain't  no  daylight 
dar." 

I  was  startled,  and  with  some  apprehension 
flashed  my  torch  in  front  of  the  negro  ;  there 
124 


In  Which  the  Game  Traps  the  Hunter 

certainly  was  the  end  of  the  twine  still  securely 
fastened  as  he  had  left  it,  but,  as  he  had  said, 
there  was  no  sign  of  daylight.  My  heart  gave 
a  sickening  little  throb  as  I  dropped  to  my 
knees  and  crawled  through  the  narrow  first 
passage,  but  it  was  only  to  find  the  entire  mouth 
blocked  by  a  stone.  I  pushed  at  it  vigor- 
ously, but  uselessly  ;  then  I  remembered  that 
near  the  entrance  I  had  sat  upon  an  immense 
slab  of  rock,  say  three  by  fifteen  feet  in  surface, 
and  at  least  one  foot  in  thickness.  I  at  once 
realized  that  the  rock  had  been  thrown  or  had 
fallen  across  the  mouth  of  the  cave  in  such  a 
way  as  to  completely  close  it  and  shut  us  in. 
I  told  Mitch  to  slip  his  great  body  into  the 
narrow  space  beside  me,  and  together  we  might 
dislodge  the  imprisoning  bulk.  He  did  so,  and 
we  braced  our  feet  against  the  wall  with  both 
backs  against  the  rock,  and  strove  till  our 
muscles  were  near  to  bursting;  but  in  vain. 

Mitch  ground  his  teeth  in  fury  and  fear,  and 
I  racked  my  brain  for  some  plan  of  escape.  I 
glanced  at  the  negro  and  saw  his  face  was 
ashen  with  horror,  and  began  to  talk  with 
assumed  cheerfulness — Heaven  knows  I  felt 
none.  I  said,  "  I  suppose  there  has  been  a 
125 


Juletty 

storm  since  we  came  down  ;  it  has  been  won- 
derfully quiet  here,  sure,  but  nothing  but  the 
force  of  a  most  terrific  tempest  could  have  dis- 
lodged that  huge  stone  and  cooped  us  up  here 
like  mice  in  a  trap." 

Mitch  was  contemptuous  of  my  suggestion, 
and  said  that  he  knew.  "  Dar's  been  too  many 
tempeses  er  snortin'  and  er  cavortin'  roun' 
hyar  dout  er  movin'  dat  ar  rock  all  dese  years 
fer  'em  ter  be  er  doin'  ub  it  now.  Some  man 
seen  us  er  comin'  hyar  an*  done  it  fer  er  joke  ; 
some  fools  don*  know  nothin'  'bout  jokes 
nohow ;  dis  ain'  no  sorter  kinder  joke.  I  bet 
one  thing ;  I  bet  I  done  taken  it  outen  his  hide 
when  we  does  git  out." 

I  shuddered  at  Mitch's  suggestion  that  a 
man  had  fastened  us  in  the  horrid  place,  and 
thought  of  the  ominous  words  I  had  heard 
when  we  entered  the  cave,  recalled  the  famil- 
iar tones  of  the  voice,  and  yet  tried  to  speak 
cheerily  to  my  companion :  "  If  a  tempest 
could  not  shake  that  stone  over,  Mitch,  what 
man  could  accomplish  it  ?  " 

"  Al  Lincque,  er  big,  strong  debble  !  "  was 
the  instant  response.  Then  in  the  red  glare 
of  our  torches  he  turned  his  troubled  face  to 
126 


In  Which  the  Game  Traps  the  Hunter 

mine.  "  Is  he  got  ennything  ergin  yer  ?  "  he 
asked. 

I  only  nodded  assent. 

"  Den  dar  ain't  no  use  fer  us  er  settin'  hyar 
er  foolin' ;  he's  de  berry  man  whut  sot  de  stone 
at  de  do'  uv  dis  seplecher,  an*  I'll  be  boun' 
yer  one  thing — dar  ain'  no  angels  loafin'  roun' 
dar  wid  nuffin  ter  do  but  ter  roll  hit  away.  Ef 
we-all  ever  git  outen  hyar  we's  gotter  do  it 
ourse'ves ;  an'  I  tell  you  right  now,  mon, 
we  gotter  hussle.  I'se  gwineter  put  out  my 
light  an'  save  hit  fer  hard  times,  so  you'll 
havter  come  erlong  an'  hold  yourn;  I  'member 
er  big  oak  cudgel  back  yonner  sommers,  an'  if 
it's  stout  ernuff  fer  er  lever,  I'se  gwinter  git 
outen  hyar.  An'  mor'n  dat,  if  de  Lawd  spars 
me  I  'm  done  still-huntin'.  But  one  thing 
sartin,  if  I  does  lib  ter  git  outen  hyar,  I'll 
break  eber  bone  in  Al  Lincque's  cyarcase. 
Good  fer  nothin'  po'  white  trash !  " 

I  could  not  repress  a  smile  at  a  threat  so  dire 
and  so  characteristic  under  circumstances  so 
hopeless  as  I  led  the  way  back  into  the  cave 
with  my  single  light.  The  place  had  lost  all 
attraction,  and  we  walked  in  silence.  After 
some  time  we  arrived  at  the  junction  of  two 
127 


Juletty 

paths,  and  as  is  usual  under  such  conditions,  we 
differed  as  to  which  turn  we  had  taken  on  the 
former  trip.  Hunger  and  weariness  had  begun 
to  tell  on  my  temper,  and  I  insisted  I  was  right 
with  a  stubbornness  not  to  have  been  expected 
or  excused,  urging  that  we  had  before  gone 
into  the  right  gallery  and  would  there  find 
the  oaken  cudgel  we  had  wished.  Mitch  was 
equally  persuaded  that  his  memory  was  correct, 
and  we  had  gone  to  the  left.  However,  as  is 
unfailingly  the  case,  the  will  of  the  white  man 
controlled,  and  Mitch  followed  me,  against  his 
judgment. 

A  twenty  minutes'  walk  satisfied  me  I  was 
the  mistaken  party  this  time,  but  I  wilfully  per- 
sisted in  going  ahead  until  we  reached  an  acute 
angle  whose  strangeness  was  so  evident  that  I 
had  to  acknowledge  defeat.  By  that  time  my 
feet  were  sore,  and  every  muscle  ached  with  the 
exertion  of  the  long  walk  and  the  strain  I  had 
made  in  trying  to  remove  the  rock  at  the 
entrance. 

"  I   am   too   tired  to  move  one  more  step, 

Mitch,"  I  said ;  "  I  simply  must  sit  down  here 

and  rest.     You  may  go  on  and  leave  me ;  I  do 

not  believe  we  will  find  a  way  out  anyway," 

128 


In  Which  the  Game  Traps  the  Hunter 

and  half  fretful,  half  despairing,  I  sank  down 
upon  the  rock  floor. 

The  need  to  comfort  me  brought  back  Mitch's 
self-control,  and  he  seated  himself  beside  me, 
saying  in  a  wistful  way : 

"  No,  sir,  Marse  Jack,  I  ain't  gwinter  leave  yer, 
yer  can  shore  'pen  on  dat ;  but  I  does  pintly 
wush  we-all  had  some'in  ter  eat." 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  We  had  been  in 
the  cave  ten  hours ;  I  had  not  at  all  realized 
it,  and  the  fact  made  me  more  than  ever  hope- 
less. 

"  Mitch,"  I  said,  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  sorry 
I  am  for  this  misfortune  ;  it  is  all  because  of  my 
persistent  search,  and  I  have  cost  you  your  life 
by  it.  If  I  might  save  you  by  giving  up  my  own 
I  would  gladly  do  it." 

"  Aw,  sher ! "  said  he,  bravely  bracing  up 
when  he  heard  the  husk  in  my  voice.  "  I  ain't 
gwinter  stay  in  hyar  and  die  ;  no,  sir,  doncher 
neber  bliebe  it  ;  I'se  gwinter  fin'  some  way  ;  ole 
Mitch  ain'  neber  been  in  no  hole  yit  whut 
he  couldn't  git  outen.  Sides,  Providence  ain' 
gwinter  let  ole  marster's  son  git  shet  up  an'  die 
like  er  rat  in  er  hole  by  sech  po'  white  trash  es 
them  Lincques.  Then,  yer  know,  ef  I  didn' 
9  129 


Juletty 

git  cher  outen  hyar,  Marse  Alec  'd  kill  me,  he 
would  shore,  mon." 

The  assurance  of  being  killed  by  man  if  he 
never  got  out  of  the  cave  was  too  much  for  me, 
and  as  I  could  not  laugh  I  must  needs  break 
down  and  cry  like  a  little  child,  and  tell  Mitch 
how  I  wished  we  had  saved  the  scraps  of  our 
luncheon.  Then,  to  recover  my  emotion,  I 
stepped  around  that  angle  which  had  convicted 
me  of  error  in  my  route.  A  breath  of  fresh  air 
kissed  my  face.  A  few  steps  farther,  and  the 
stars  were  winking  and  blinking  at  me  in 
derision  of  my  fears,  when  I  should  have  known 
they  awaited  me  outside. 

I  called  Mitch,  and  the  joy  in  my  voice  must 
have  betrayed  my  good  tidings,  for  as  he  stag- 
gered to  me  I  heard  him  mutter : 

"  Bress  Gawd ;  I  knowed  He  wouldn'  let  'at 
scum  of  de  yeth  hu't  Miss  'Liza's  chile." 

Al  had  failed  in  his  scheme  to  bury  me  alive, 
only  because  the  cave  had  two  entrances. 

I  would  watch  him  more  carefully  in  the 
future. 


130 


CHAPTER  VII 

In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN  WHICH   I   JOIN  A   MAN   HUNT 

A  WARM  spell  brightened  the  January 
weather. 

Snow  disappeared,  and  there  was  not  even  a 
suggestion  of  frost  in  the  atmosphere ;  birds 
sang  and  hopped  about,  merry  and  busy  as 
new-made  wives,  and  the  leaf  buds  on  bush  and 
tree  were  swollen  to  birth-giving  time.  Knowl- 
edge that  a  drop  in  temperature  was  sure  to 
come  had  no  power  to  prevent  our  enjoying 
to  the  utmost  the  warmth  of  the  day.  Grand- 
father sat  through  the  noontides  in  the  open 
door,  solemnly  swearing  that  he  had  renewed 
his  youth,  and  offering  as  proof — "  I've  got 
spring  fever,  and  hate  the  thought  of  work  as 
bad  as  any  young  cub  of  sixteen  ;  then,  too,  I've 
fallen  in  love  with  the  madame  over  again,  and 
your  greatest  poet  says  it's  a  young  man's  fancy 
that  turns  to  thoughts  of  love  in  the  spring — 
so  there  you  have  me,  young  as  the  youngest." 
133 


Juletty 

He  showed  the  influence  of  his  spring  fever  by 
retiring  at  an  unconscionably  early  hour,  thus 
sending  me  to  my  room,  where  I  usually  spent 
the  evening  reading.  But  on  the  occasion  of 
which  I  am  going  to  tell  I  put  out  my  light 
and  sat  by  the  open  window  with  my  pipe — the 
most  charming,  the  most  unobstrusive,  the 
most  sympathetic  companion  that  ever  solaced 
a  bachelor's  loneliness. 

I  had  much  to  think  of.  Nearly  four  months 
had  passed  since  I  arrived  at  Rich  Pond.  Every 
hour  of  the  time  had  been  a  delight,  and  much 
had  been  spent  in  work — work  that  produced 
no  results,  to  be  sure,  except  to  convince  me 
that  the  illicit  still  I  sought  was  in  no  cave, 
but  located  in  one  of  the  many  tenant  cabins 
on  my  grandfather's  or  on  Mr.  Lincque's  farm. 
Whatever  my  suspicions  might  become  of  any 
special  place,  I  would  find  it  impossible  to 
institute  a  search  in  a  dwelling,  because  I  was 
acting  incognito. 

Debating  whether  I  had  best  drop  the  hunt 
and  go  home,  I  had  spent  the  preceding  day  in 
Jim's  study,  and  failed  to  secure  a  full  jug,  so 
my  time  had  been  wasted.  But  my  failure  to 
get  the  whiskey  assured  me  that  the  distiller 
134 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

had  scented  danger  from  my  persistent  patron- 
age, and  if  he  thought  me  dangerous,  I  must 
make  myself  so.  I  had  in  wily  fashion  en- 
deavored to  persuade  Mr.  Lincque  to  reclaim 
the  waste  land  that  was  covered  by  the  thicket, 
but  his  reply  was  : 

"  You  are  right,  Mr.  Burton  ;  that  thicket  just 
ruins  some  ten  or  twelve  acres  of  good  land  ; 
and  I  would  like  powerful  well  to  cut  it  out, 
but  Juletty  is  so  detarmined  to  save  them 
'  Cyardinals,'  as  she  calls  'm,  that  I  ain't  had 
had  the  heart  to  do  it." 

I  knew  how  she  loved  the  Cardinals,  and  hun- 
dreds of  them  fed  there  all  winter  on  the  sumac 
berries,  and  nested  in  the  spring.  It  was  a  sweet 
fancy  of  the  girl's,  and  I  respected  the  rough  old 
father  for  humoring  it,  though  it  interfered  with 
my  plans.  Could  I  but  clear  out  that  under- 
growth I  felt  sure  of  taking  the  distiller  red- 
handed.  Dreams  of  Juliet  put  all  thought  of 
business  out  of  my  head,  and  I  sat  gazing  drow- 
sily at  a  light  which  I  knew  gleamed  from  a  neigh- 
bor's window.  The  farm  joining  grandfather's 
was  owned  and  occupied  by  the  Clarks,  people  of 
wealth,  culture,  and  refinement,  and  most  excel- 
lent neighbors ;  the  large,  old  colonial  house 
135 


Juletty 

was  lonely,  for  only  the  old  gentleman  and  his 
wife  lived  there.  She  had  that  day  dined  with 
grandmother,  saying  it  was  to  have  company 
during  her  husband's  absence  of  several  days. 
I  asked  if  she  were  afraid  to  stay  there  all 
alone,  and  she  laughingly  declared  that  an  old 
lady  like  herself  had  nothing  to  fear.  I  remem- 
bered how  her  dainty  little  hands  were  adorned 
with  diamonds,  and  thought  how  young  she  had 
seemed  as  she  replied  with  like  spirit  to  some 
of  my  grandfather's  merry  badinage.  Unless 
it  was  telepathy,  I  cannot  tell  why  I  so  persist- 
ently recalled  the  sparkle  of  her  dark  eyes 
and  the  ripple  of  her  laughter  as  I  sat  there  in 
my  dark  room,  gazing  at  her  light.  Suddenly, 
before  my  eyes,  leaving  no  room  for  doubt, 
the  light  was  blotted  out,  and  at  the  same 
instant  there  fell  upon  my  ear  the  shrill, 
piercing  shriek  of  a  woman.  It  was  faint,  and 
had  my  thoughts  been  other  than  they  were  I 
should  not  have  noticed  it.  I  sprang  to  my 
feet  and,  slippered  and  hatless,  dashed  down- 
stairs, shouted  as  I  raced  through  the  hall, 
"  There's  trouble  at  Clark's,"  and  ran  madly  on. 
I  cleared  the  lawn  fence  at  one  bound,  and 
running  as  I  had  not  run  since  I  left  old  Centre 
136 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

College,  headed  across  fields  to  the  Clark 
place. 

I  felt  as  if  it  were  a  crawling  pace,  for  those 
piercing,  pitiful  shrieks  called  me  on. 

I  lifted  my  own  voice  in  hoarse  terror  of  the 
unknown  thing,  and  cried,  "  I  come,  I  come, 
I  come ! " 

Each  time  my  quickened  breath  admitted 
of  utterance  I  repeated  the  cry,  "  I  come, 
I  come !  " 

Then  the  other  wailing  tones  ceased. 

What  was  it?     Had  murder  been  done? 

God  !  if  I  could  but  fly  ! 

Yet  I  know  the  race  was  quickly  made,  and 
it  was  only  a  few  minutes  that  brought  me  to 
the  wide-open  door  of  the  old  home. 

Moans  from  within  thrilled  me  as  I  drew  a 
match  from  my  pocket  and  struck  it.  The 
flickering  flame  showed  the  woman  whom  I 
had  seen  a  few  hours  before  in  health  and  hap- 
piness, prone  on  the  floor.  Her  clothing  was 
torn  and  displaced,  her  hair  loose  and  dishev- 
elled, her  face  blood-stained. 

She  gave  no  sign  of  consciousness,  but 
moaned  as  if  in  horror.  I  hastily  arranged  her 
clothing,  and  taking  a  pillow  from  the  bed, 
137 


Juletty 

made  her  as  comfortable  as  I  could,  and  had 
secured  water  and  towels  to  bathe  her  face 
when  grandfather  and  half  a  dozen  negro  men 
arrived. 

The  old  gentleman  glanced  keenly  about, 
saw  the  disarranged  furniture  and  evidences 
of  a  struggle,  and  his  face  went  ashy  gray. 
"  Mitch,"  he  said — and  I  think  I  never  heard 
more  of  sternness  and  solemn  pathos  in  any 
voice — "  you  see  what's  been  done  here.  Go 
bring  your  mistress  to  this  sufferer." 

The  negro  slipped  away  in  silence  to  obey 
him,  and  he  turned  to  the  others.  "  Charley, 
go  over  to  Martin's  and  tell  him  and  his  boys 
of  this,  and  say  that  I  am  waiting  here  for 
them.  Caspar,  you  go  to  Rickett's  and  deliver 
the  same  message.  John,  go  to  Gartin's  and 
do  the  same  thing,  and  Jock,  you  go  to  my 
brother  Charles.  Don't  wait  to  go  home  for 
horses.  Get  them  from  Clark's  stable,  and 
don't  spare  them." 

Without  one  word  the  boys  left  us,  and  we 
shortly  heard  the  rattle  of  hoofs  as  they  went 
speedily  on  their  errands. 

Scarcely  had  they  departed  when  my  grand- 
mother reached  us.  Kneeling  beside  the  still 
138 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

unconscious   woman,  she   wrapped    her  arms 
about  her  and  sobbed  broken-heartedly : 

"  Oh,  Margaret,  Margaret,  my  friend,  that 
you  should  come  to  this,  that  you  should  come 
to  this  ! " 

Her  voice  and  the  dropping  of  her  sympa- 
thetic tears  accomplished  what  we  had  been 
unable  to  do — roused  the  sufferer,  and  she  clung 
to  her,  whispering  in  broken  gasps,  "  Marion, 
Marion,  Marion,  is  it  you?" 

The  horror  was  heavy  upon  her,  and  she 
looked  fearfully  about,  gazing  deep  into  the 
shadows  as  if  fearing  some  new  terror  might 
spring  from  their  depths. 

"  It  is  I  indeed,  my  dear,  and  I  will  not  leave 
you.  Oh,  if  I  had  only  made  some  one  stay 
with  you  this  night !  Come,  Jack,  lay  her  on 
that  bed." 

After  she  had  been  disrobed  and  made 
neat,  though  it  was  often  necessary  for  us  to 
pause  and  try  to  comfort  and  soothe  her  that 
we  might  keep  off,  if  possible,  those  terrible 
paroxysms  of  suffering,  my  grandmother  asked 
her  very  gently  : 

"Can  you  tell  us  anything  of  what  has  hap- 
pened, Margaret  ?  " 

139 


Juletty 

She  had  not  once  spoken  since  that  first 
calling  of  her  friend's  name.  She  had  made  no 
outcry  whatever,  only  those  spasms  of  trem- 
bling showed  her  agony. 

Even  in  response  to  the  question  she  could 
only  bury  her  face  in  her  torn  hands  and  shake 
her  head,  while  a  storm  of  passionate  horror 
shook  her  slight  figure  like  a  reed  tempest 
tossed. 

Grandmother,  however,  would  not  be  dis- 
missed, hard  as  the  questioning  was.  She 
knew  what  was  meant  by  that  call  for  his 
neighbors  from  the  impetuous  old  man  stamp- 
ing back  and  forth  on  the  porch.  She  felt  that 
deeds  like  that  must  be  done  on  certainty 
alone.  But  assurance  once  made  sure,  even 
that  gentle  soul  would  have  them  speedily 
about  the  business. 

Again  she  urged  :  "  Margaret,  my  love,  tell 
your  friend — has  the  greatest  evil  that  can 
come  to  a  woman  befallen  you  this  night  ?  " 

"Oh,  Marion,  it  has,  it  has!"  wailed  the 
stricken  woman,  in  such  agonized  tones  that  I 
groaned  aloud. 

Grandmother  bent  over  her  with  renewed 
protestations  of  tenderness,  while  I  left  the 
140 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

room,  feeling  I  could  no  longer  endure  the  sight 
of  her  misery. 

Mitch  sat  on  the  stile,  and  as  I  went  out 
I  saw  a  line  of  silver  falling  from  his  hand. 
Passing  over  to  him  I  found  it  to  be  the  chains 
by  which  he  held  two  magnificent  blood- 
hounds. They  were  his  own  property,  reared 
and  trained  by  himself,  and  I  knew  he  had 
brought  them  unbidden. 

"  Mitch,"  I  said,  to  see  just  what  his  feeling 
was,  "this  is  a  dreadful  affair." 

"  Dat's  whut  'tis,  Marse  Jack.  It's  des 
erbout  the  wust  ting  ebber  happen  in  our-all's 
county.  But  we's  gwinter  wipe  it  out.  We's 
gwinter  kill  dat  nigger  ef  hit  takes  us  till  nex' 
Christmas  ter  fin'  him." 

"  But  you  do  not  know  that  it  was  a  negro, 
Mitch,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,  I  does,  too,  Marse  Jack ;  hit's  des  lack 
er  fool  nigger.  Dat's  whut  gives  us  all  er  bad 
name ;  us  good  niggers  work,  an'  tug,  and 
berhave  ourse'ves  and  gits  er  putty  good 
name,  an'  long  come  some  black  debbil  uv  er 
nigger  an'  do  some'in  awful,  an'  de  whole 
nigger  race  gits  blame  for  it.  Us  good  uns 
ain'  gwinter  stan'  hit  no  longer ;  we's  gwin 
141 


Juletty 

'long  wid  you-all  to-night  an'  see  dat  nigger 
git  his  desarts  fur  onct.  Dar  ain'  but  one 
thing  er  comin'  ter  nigger  or  whitey  whut's 
done  er  thing  lack  dis  one  nohow,  an'  dat's 
death." 

In  less  than  an  hour  messengers  and  neigh- 
bors had  gathered  at  thedesolate^  home;  there 
must  have  been  between  twenty  and  thirty 
men  standing  about  in  the  yard.  Many  came 
unsummoned,  but  the  horror  had  been  noised 
abroad  mysteriously,  as  all  horrors  are.  There 
were  some  negroes,  but  the  decided  majority 
were  white,  and  I  knew  them  as  the  most 
prominent  representative  citizens  of  that  part 
of  Warren  County.  I  found  no  difficulty  in 
recognizing  them,  as  there  was  no  masking  or 
slightest  effort  at  hiding  identities.  The  most 
remarkable  point  in  the  gathering  was  the 
silence ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  no  single  remark 
had  been  made  till  my  grandfather  stepped  to 
the  edge  of  the  porch  and  addressed  the  crowd 
in  a  voice  that  was  tremulous  to  brokenness 
with  the  intensity  of  his  emotion.  He  said  : 

"  Men,  the  foulest  outrage  that  can  disgrace 
humanity  has  been  perpetrated  here  to-night. 
Our  friend,  our  neighbor,  faithful  and  kind,  one 
142 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

of  the  purest,  noblest,  loveliest  women  of  the 
earth,  has  had  her  future  life  turned  into  one 
protracted  horror,  no  matter  how  long  that 
life  may  be,  by  some  beast  whose  mere  exist- 
ence is  a  curse  to  the  world.  This  might  have 
been  my  wife,  or  might  have  been  yours.  No 
home  is  safe  while  such  a  fiend  has  breath. 
Shall  we  avenge  our  friend  ?  Shall  we  secure 
safety  for  our  wives  and  daughters  ?  There 
is  but  one  way.  I  do  not  know  the  color  of 
this  brute — I  do  not  care  to  know  ;  but  be  he 
black  or  white,  so  surely  as  there  reigns  a  God 
in  heaven,  so  surely  as  we  love  our  wives  and 
honor  them  for  their  purity — so  surely  shall  he 
never  look  upon  another  sun." 

He  ceased  speaking. 

There  had  been  no  interruption  of  either 
agreement  or  dissent.  And  when  he  closed 
there  followed  no  sound  save  an  unintelligible 
murmur,  certainly  no  intemperance  of  speech 
or  conduct.  There  was  a  stir ;  torches  the 
negroes  had  brought  were  lighted,  and  I 
noticed  my  grandfather  had  a  rope  coiled 
loosely  on  his  arm.  The  men  quietly  mounted 
their  horses,  and  he  called  Mitch  and  spoke  in 
an  undertone  to  him. 

143 


Juletty 

The  negro  patted  his  dogs  and  spoke 
soothingly  to  them,  rubbing  the  distended 
nostrils  of  each  with  a  coarse,  soiled  kerchief 
we  had  found  on  the  floor  near  the  unfortu- 
nate woman.  At  length,  with  an  encourag- 
ing push  he  bade  them  "  Hunt !  " 

They  wagged  their  tails,  sniffed  the  ground, 
and  came  back,  hesitating  and  uncertain,  to 
their  master,  fawning  and  jumping  upon  him 
as  if  not  understanding  what  was  wanted. 

He  patted  the  great,  brown  heads  and 
pulled  the  long,  glossy  ears  caressingly. 

"  Hunt !  hunt !  "  he  repeated  in  a  low  tone. 

Again  they  placed  nose  to  earth  and  turned 
their  heads  from  side  to  side  quickly  as  they 
loped  lightly  to  the  open  house-door,  and 
entered ;  smelt  long  and  anxiously  the  carpet 
whence  the  kerchief  had  been  taken,  and  then 
raised  their  heads  and  bayed  joyously  at  trail 
of  game,  dashing  wildly  around  the  house  and 
making  for  the  woodland  in  the  rear. 

Every  man  followed  but  three  reluctant 
ones,  who  were  left  with  the  women.  Not  once 
again  did  the  intelligent  dogs  falter. 

I  feared  that  the  brook  we  must  cross  would 
thwart  them,  but  not  so ;  they  sprang  over 
144 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

unhesitatingly  and  kept  on,  now  and  again 
giving  tongue,  but  not  noisily,  until  we  had 
gained  the  densest  part  of  the  forest. 

There,  with  yelps  ever  quicker  and  shorter, 
they  sped  on  to  a  fallen  tree,  where  they  barked 
furiously,  scratching  off  the  bark,  and  rushing 
round  and  round  it. 

Al  Lincque  stopped  and  looked  sharply  at 
the  larger  end  of  the  log,  and  when  he  arose 
announced,  "  Ther  log's  holler;  an'  the  devil's 
inside  uv  it.  Thar  ain't  no  axe  ter  chop  it  open 
with,  so  somebody  gimme  er  match  an'  I'll 
burn  'im  out." 

"  No,"  said  grandfather,  "  we'll  give  him  a 
chance  first."  And  he  called  to  the  fugitive, 
but  unavailingly. 

The  log  was  kicked,  rolled  over,  and  shaken, 
but  no  sign  came  from  within. 

"  I'm  afraid  your  dogs  are  a  failure,  Mitch," 
some  one  said  impatiently. 

"  No,  sir,  dey  ain'  no  failure ;  dey's  right, 
shore's  yer  bawn."  Then,  leaning  close  to  the 
log, he  shouted  in  tones  loud  and  clear, "Come 
outen  dar,  Bill  Jackson ! 

"  I  know  you's  dar,  kase  dese  hyar  dawgs 
knows  yer,  and  dey  ain'  tellin'  no  lie ;  an*  I 
10  145 


Juletty 

knows  yer  by  dis  hyar  hankercher  yer  done 
stoled  fum  me  las'  county  cote." 

Mitch  had  not  before  told  of  his  discovery 
concerning  the  handkerchief,  and  it  was  only 
dragged  from  him  that  time  by  his  great  anxi- 
ety for  the  reputation  of  his  dogs. 

There  followed  a  muttered  oath  from  the 
hollow  log,  and  a  large,  muscular  negro  crept 
forth,  stood  erect,  and  shook  from  his  clothing 
the  tiny  particles  of  decayed  bark. 

"  Whutcher  all  come  er  wakin'  me  fer,  dis 
hyar  time  er  night  ?  When  I  jes  crope  in  dar 
fer  er  good  all-night's  sleep,  whutcher  all  come 
er  botherin'  roun'  fer?  Whutcher  doin'  out 
hyar,  ennyhow ?  Whut's  de  matter?" 

The  bluff  was  well  played,  and  argued  for  the 
negro's  sharpness,  but  it  failed. 

"This  is  a  very  solemn  question,  Mitch,  and 
a  fellow-man's  life  hangs  on  your  answer,"  said 
Judge  Martin.  "  Can  you  swear  that  this  is 
Bill's  handkerchief?" 

"  Yessir,  I  can  swear  it,  Jedge ;  cose  I  can 
swear  ter  it ;  ain'  I  seed  him  wid  hit  no 
longer  ago'n  yistiddy?  An  den,  he  done 
stoled  hit  fum  me  bersides,  jes  lack  I  done  tole 
yer." 

146 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Hunt 

But  the  criminal  was  as  cool  as  any  of  the 
party  (and  there  was  no  excitement  from  start 
to  finish),  so  he  made  one  more  bold  bluff  for 
his  life,  and  said,  with  something  like  a  laugh 
or  sneer  :  "  Mitch's  lyin' ;  'tain'  my  hankcher 
'tall,  it's  his'n." 

The  indignant  Mitch  lifted  his  big  hand  to 
strike,  but  grandfather  stopped  him.  "  Never 
mind,  Mitch,  I  know  where  you  were  when 
that  rag  was  lost ;  you  were  safe  at  home." 

The  negro's  face  brightened  with  a  new  idea 
caught  from  the  words.  "  Yessir,  Mr.  Hamil- 
ton, yessir ;  I  wuz  home  too ;  I  ain'  been  ober 
ter  Mr.  Clark's  fer  six  mon'hs.  Swear  ter  God 
I  ain',  Mr.  Hamilton." 

That  was  enough ;  the  Clark  name  had  not 
been  mentioned  by  the  party,  and  he  had  con- 
victed himself. 

Grandfather  advanced.  I  could  see  his  face 
clearly  in  the  light  of  the  torches,  and  it  had 
positively  no  anger  in  it.  He  felt  himself  sim- 
ply an  upright  avenger,  a  representative  of 
justice,  and  the  hand  that  slipped  the  noose 
about  the  black  neck  was  firm  and  even  gentle 
in  its  movements. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  this  affair  could  not 
147 


Juletty 

be  allowed  to  drag  through  the  courts,  and  the 
name  of  our  friend  be  made  a  by-word  through- 
out the  land  ;  we  will  avenge  her  here  and  now, 
quietly,  go  quietly  to  our  homes,  and  never 
speak  of  this.  Bill,  I  am  sorry  for  you. 

"  God  knows  I  wish  this  need  not  have  been, 
but  you  have  forced  it  on  us. 

"  You  have  only  five  minutes  to  live ;  have 
you  anything  to  say  ?  " 

"  Naw,  sir,"  was  the  sullen  answer. 

"  What  devil  possessed  you,  Bill  ?  Why,  oh, 
why  did  you  commit  such  a  crime  ?  " — a  very 
passion  of  regret  in  the  voice. 

"  'Cause  she  had  me  tu'ned  off,  dam " 

Grandfather  interposed  :  "  This  is  no  time 
for  curses,  Bill ;  pray." 

"  I  am'  got  no  pra'rs  ter  say." 

Grandfather  lifted  his  big  soft  hat  and  stood 
bareheaded  by  the  great,  sullen  brute,  and  at 
his  first  word  each  head  was  bared  ;  and  in  the 
flickering  light  of  torches,  mid  the  silence  of 
the  woodland,  the  men  stood  motionless  and 
bowed  as  he  said,  "O  God!  Creator  of  all 
things,  even  the  vilest  worm  that  crawls,  if  in 
the  fulness  of  Thy  grace  there  can  be  pity  for 
a  wretch  so  low,  have  mercy  on  this  soul." 
148 


In  Which  I  Join  a  Man  Munt 

He  gave  the  rope's  end  to  Al  Lincque,  and 
turned  away. 

I  did  likewise. 

When  I  looked  again  the  twitching  semblance 
of  a  man  hung  from  the  oak  above  us,  and  in 
the  weird  light  a  poor,  distorted  face  grinned 
hideously  at  the  group  of  silent,  stern,  pitiless 
avengers. 

It  was  a  grievous  sin,  and  grievously  had  he 
answered  for  it.  That  was  full  twenty  years 
ago ;  but  from  that  time  to  this  I  have  not 
heard  one  word  of  reference  to  that  night's 
deeds  from  any  member  of  the  party. 

However  the  world  might  judge,  they  had 
done  what  was  to  them  a  hard  but  plain  duty. 

To-day  all  but  myself  see  it  in  the  white  light 
of  Eternity. 


149 


CHAPTER  VIII 
In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN  WHICH   FIRST   BLOOD   IS   DRAWN 

A  SETTLED  gloom  hung  over  the  community. 

Almost  it  might  have  been  as  when  the  first- 
born of  each  household  lay  dead. 

It  was  when  the  sorrow  was  lifting  that 
grandmother  came  to  me  for  a  quiet  word  or 
two — dear,  patient  grandmother,  who  never 
chided,  no  matter  what  one's  fault  might  be, 
whose  voice  I  never  heard  lifted  above  the  very 
gentlest  tones,  and  whose  strength  of  character 
and  beauty  remain  with  me  to  this  day — 
though  my  own  hair  is  whitening — and  who 
still  continues  my  ideal  of  womanliness. 

That  morning  when  she  approached  me  I 
knew  she  had  come  to  rebuke  me  in  her  most 
unrebukeful  way. 

"Jack  dear,"  she  said,  smoothing  the  hair 
from  my  brow,  "  I  do  not  half  like  your  spend- 
ing so  much  of  your  time  at  Mr.  Lincque's." 

"  But  mither  mine,  Juliet  seems  to  have  no 
153 


objection,  and  I  am  charmed  to  do  so.  My 
one  grief  in  the  matter  is  that  I  am  compelled 
to  be  so  much  away  from  the  dearest  woman 
in  the  world — except  one."  I  kissed  her  hand 
and  she  shook  her  head  smilingly  as  I  added, 
"  How  happy  could  I  be  with  either  were 
t'other  dear  charmer  away  !  " 

She  blushed  as  a  girl,  but  bridled  as  a  woman. 
"I  would  fancy  Juliet  does  not  object  I 
have  no  doubt  of  her  pleasure  in  your  visits ; 
but,  my  boy,  she  does  not  belong  to  our  kind  of 
people." 

What  a  peculiar  tone  she  took  on  for  that 
speech,  born  aristocrat  that  she  was ! 

One  would  single  her  out  from  a  thousand 
as  blue  blooded  just  as  readily  as  a  practical 
horseman  would  pick  a  thoroughbred.  Pardon 
the  twig  for  boasting  of  the  parent  stem  ;  it  is 
a  Kentucky  characteristic,  and  was  produced 
by  adequate  causes.  She  was  not  through ; 
she  was  bent  on  arguing  the  case,  but  the  ar- 
gument would  be  short  lived,  and  end  with  a 
kiss  and  a  Godspeed  in  my  wooing. 

"Juliet's  father  has  money,  'tis  true,''  she 
continued,  still  stroking  my  hair,  "  but  though 
money  is  a  good  thing  it  is  not  all ;  it  cannot 
154 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawrt 

take  the  place  of  blood.  If  Juliet  were  not 
the  bright,  sparkling  beauty  that  she  is,  you 
know,  dear,  she  would  not  be  received  any- 
where." 

Grandmother  waited  for  me  to  speak,  but 
after  the  manner  of  men  of  my  family  I  had 
nothing  to  say  when  deeply  moved. 

"  Her  father  has  given  her  excellent  advan- 
tages," she  then  went  on  to  say  ;  "  he  is  a  sensi- 
ble man.  But,  my  dear  child,  it  is  certainly 
best  for  all  concerned  that  she  should  keep  to 
her  own  place  in  life,  and  the  most  satisfactory 
arrangement  possible,  as  I  see  it,  is  that  she 
should  marry  that  giant  cousin  who  risked  his 
life  for  her,  and  settle  down  to  farming  and 
poultry  raising — the  happiest  life  for  any 
woman,  anyway." 

Another  wait ;  still  silence  on  my  part. 

"Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  my  son?" 

"  Juliet  is  my  promised  wife,"  I  said  con- 
clusively. 

That  was  enough ;  the  gentlewoman  honored 
the  confession,  and  would  not  have  me  other- 
wise than  true  ;  never  again  did  she  insinuate 
to  me  that  my  marriage  would  be  other  than 
pleasant  to  her.  Indeed,  through  much  after 
155 


Juietty 

misery  she  was  my  comforter.  Before  leaving 
me  she  kissed  me  fondly  and  said,  "  I  have  not 
forgotten  my  youth,  my  son ;  your  grand- 
mother's heart  is  with  you,  and  desires  only 
your  happiness." 

But  I  heard  a  sigh  as  I  passed  from  the 
room,  and  felt  her  eyes  follow  me  as  I  walked 
away  down  the  maple-bordered  avenue. 

The  sun  had  risen  during  our  talk,  and  I 
saw  all  the  earth  covered  by  a  fog,  gray, 
soft,  dense,  as  if  woven  of  silvery  cobwebs ; 
wherever  I  might  stand  the  ragged  edges  next 
me  had  a  yellow  glint  where  the  sun  had  shot 
it  with  his  golden  beams  in  hope  to  rend  it  all 
asunder. 

A  Kentucky  fog  is  different  from  others. 

It  has  not  that  dampness  that  makes  one 
shiver  and  yawn  and  grow  cross  and  croaky. 

If  such  a  thing  were  possible  I  would  call  it 
a  dry  fog. 

On  second  thought  I  shall  call  it  that  any 
way. 

It  buoys  your  spirit  up  ;  keeps  you  active 
and  stirring ;  doing,  doing,  doing,  anything  to 
be  outside  and  in  it. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  door  I  heard  grand- 
156 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

father's  stentorian  tones,  and  following  'their 
sound  found  myself  in  front  of  the  negro  quar- 
ters, many  of  the  cabins  being  still  inhabited 
by  their  former  occupants  and  still  controlled 
by  the  master,  who  sat  with  a  bucket  and  tin 
dipper  beside  him  and  a  bottle  in  his  hand. 
Some  twenty  young  negroes,  from  the  tiny 
toddler  of  two  years  to  the  half-grown  youth, 
were  ranged  in  line  before  him  ;  one  by  one 

they   advanced   and   were    made   to   swallow, 

** 

with  many  grimaces,  a  spoonful  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  bottle,  and  wash  it  down,  with 
numerous  chop  lickings,  by  a  drink  from  the 
ladle.  I  waited  till  they  closed  the  stance  and 
scampered  away  before  asking  what  it  meant. 

"  Well,"  said  he  as  he  arose  and  took  up  his 
bucket,  "  I  think  an  ounce  of  prevention  is 
worth  a  pound  of  cure  ;  so  once  a  week  I  dose 
the  young  'uns  with  copperas  and  a  drink  of 
whiskey  to  keep  'em  in  condition.  I  always 
done  it  when  I  owned  'em,  and  I'll  keep  it 
up  'slong  as  they  live  on  my  place.  I'm  not 
going  to  have  'em  startin'  a  plague  right  on 
my  premises." 

He  left  his  bucket  at  the  porch,  and  we 
walked  across  the  lawn.  The  fog  had  lifted 


Juletty 

somewhat,  and  we  could  see  drawn  up  beside 
the  stile  a  vehicle  of  some  sort  which  had  not 
been  there  the  previous  night.  Grandfather 
saw  it  first  with  his  keen  eyes.  "  A  photo- 
graph gallery  on  wheels !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Well,  they  can  just  move  on ;  there's  no- 
body here  so  good-looking  that  we  can  afford 
to  risk  er  camery  on  'em.  Thar's  more  fools 
er  paradin'  the  country  with  such  rigs  as  that 
than  you  can  shake  a  stick  at.  I  make  a  point 
never  to  encourage  them  with  my  patronage. 
Le's  go  ask  'em  in  to  breakfas';  I  bet  they  got 
none  uv  their  own,"  he  added,  inconsistently 
though  hospitably. 

"I  bet  thar's  er  woman  an'  dozen  young 
uns  in  the  old  bunk." 

I  lagged  behind  him,  but  on  his  arrival  at 
the  car  hastened  my  pace,  for  he  exploded 
into  such  a  volley  of  oaths  and  vituperation 
as  I  had  seldom  heard. 

One  glance  into  the  interior  revealed  the 
cause  of  his  unholy  indignation.  There  sat  my 
uncle  Warner,  newspaper  in  hand,  gazing  in 
mild  astonishment  and  some  shamefacedness 
at  his  angry  father;  behind  him  his  wife  bent 
over  a  small  stove,  preparing  breakfast  ; 
158 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

about  him  were  his  three  children  in  various 
stages  of  undress.  He  finally  managed  to 
expostulate  : 

"  O  father!  father!  don't  swear  so." 
"  Swear  the  devil !  "  ejaculated  his  sire. 
"  Be  thankful  I  don't  murder  you." 
"  I  know  what  you've  done ;  don't  tell  me  ; 
Ellen's  red  eyes  are  enough.    There's  only  one 
thing  I  want  to  know,  and  that   is,  what  is 
the  quickest  and  easiest  way  to  get  you  out 
of  it?" 

My  uncle's  soft  eyes  brightened  ;  he  saw  his 
time  of  explanation  had  come,  and  felt  sure 
that  once  in  his  life  he  had  made  a  good  trade 
and  acted  shrewdly  in  business,  so  he  actually 
smiled  as  he  drew  up  an  extra  chair  for  his 
father  (though  it  was  declined),  and  began : 

"  You  see,  I  went  to  town  last  county  court 
day  and  sold  my  mules  for  the  best  prices  I 
ever  got.  Well,  as  I  was  coming  home  I  met 
a  man  with  this  car,  and  he  stopped  for  a  talk. 
He  was  interested  in  horses  and  mules,  and  en- 
quired what  I  got  for  mine,  and  so  on.  At 
last  he  said — and  it  was  a  very  sensible  thing, 
too — '  Now,  you  got  one  thousand  dollars  for 
your  mules,  but  how  long  did  it  take  you  to 
'59 


Juletty 

do  it  ?  You  keep  some  of  them  six  months, 
and  some  two  years,  and  if  you  count  time, 
money,  and  expense  you  have  come  out  in 
debt.  Now  look  at  me ;  I  just  sit  here  easy 
and  comfortable ;  when  I  get  tired  of  one  place, 
hook  up  and  go  to  another ;  I  see  the  world, 
and  know  what's  going  on.  Don't  do  a  thing 
till  some  one  comes  along  and  wants  a  tin- 
type, then  I  take  it  in  two  minutes,  finish  it  in 
five,  and  charge  fifty  cents  for  the  seven 
minutes'  work.  Making  money  hand  over  fist, 
and  enjoying  life  at  the  same  time.'  That  is 
what  he  said,  and  then  he  had  an  awful  spell 
of  coughing. 

"  He  said  he  had  consumption,  he  had  in- 
herited it  from  his  mother,  and  would  have  to 
quit  business  and  retire,  because  he  had  not 
long  to  live. 

"  I  felt  sorry  for  him,  and  asked  what  he'd 
take  for  the  outfit  as  it  stood  ;  when  he  told 
me  I  snapped  him  up  and  took  it." 

u  What'd  yer  give  fer  ther  dam  thing?  "  in- 
terrupted his  father. 

Uncle  Warner  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair 
and  regarded  his  sire  anxiously  ;  he  had  evi- 
dently not  made  the  impression  he  had  ex- 
160 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

pected  to  make  as  to  his  worldly  wisdom,  but 
answered:  "Three  hundred  dollars  cash,  and 
the  bay  filly  to  boot  ;  you  see  I  sorter  threw 
in  the  filly,  as  he  was  sick  and  had  to  have 
some  way  to  get  to  town." 

"  I  see ;  an'  it's  er  dam  pity  you  hadn't 
throwed  yourself  in,  too;  but  I  s'pose  he 
wouldn't  er  had  yer." 

"  Take  the  children  to  the  house,  daughter," 
he  said  kindly  to  Aunt  Ellen  ;  "  I'll  settle  with 
this  fool." 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  him,  father,"  she 
whispered  as  she  left  us. 

"  Now,  Buddy,  le's  get  you  reconstructed ; 
I  knowed  you  was  up  to  some  fool  thing  when 
you  stayed  away  three  or  four  days  at  a  time, 
and  I  ought  to  have  gone  to  see  about  you. 
But  I  am  truly  thankful  you  didn't  trade  your 
whole  farm  fer  the  dam  thing." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  you  are  so  impetuous," 
reproached  the  offender,  gently ;  "  why,  look 
here,  can't  you  see  it  is  a  good  thing?  Now, 
I  can  make  one  picture  in  seven  minutes  (but 
will  say  ten  for  the  sake  of  your  impatience), 
and  for  that  ten  minutes'  work  I  get  fifty  cents. 
Ten  minutes  to  one  picture  makes  six  pictures 
ii  i'  i 


Juletty 

to  the  hour,  which  will  amount  to  three  dollars. 
I  can  work  eight  hours  a  day  ;  and  there  you 
are,  twenty-four  dollars — twenty-four  dollars 
per  day,  besides  having  all  the  time  one  would 
want  for  mental  improvement  and  family 
pleasure,"  the  little  man  concluded,  in  a  glow 
of  triumph  and  conviction. 

"Oh,  hell!"  groaned  the  irate  old  gentle- 
man; "you  are  the  damdest  fool  livin'.  You've 
had  the  cussed  thing  three  weeks  now,  and  how 
many  pictures  have  you  made  ?  " 

"  One,"  and  Buddy  hung  his  head. 

"  And  at  one  picture  ever'  three  weeks  how 
long  will  it  take  for  you  and  your  children  ter 
starve  to  death  ?  That's  ther  kind  uv  arith- 
metic I  want  you  to  be  studyin'.  You  go  ter 
the  house — if  you  got  sense  enough  ter  find  ther 
way — and  then,  after  breakfast,  go  home  and 
stay  thar.  I  reckon  I  know  what  to  do  with 
this  cussed  thing.  Tom !  Dick  !  Harry  !  "  he 
yelled  to  the  negroes  at  the  woodpile,  and  they 
came  running  with  their  axes  in  their  hands. 
"  Chop  this  dammed  cyart  ter  kindlin'  wood, 
and  I'll  pay  you  with  them  three  ratty  little 
mules  that  hauled  it  here."  The  chopping  was 
done,  and  thus  ended  Buddy's  only  attempt  to 
162 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

go  into  business  without  first  consulting  his 
father. 

That  day,  however,  was  destined  to  be  one 
of  unusual  stir  in  family  affairs.  After  an  early 
supper  I  sat  with  my  hosts  before  the  wide 
sitting-room  fireplace,  when  a  rap  was  heard  at 
the  open  door — how  I  enjoyed  that  combina- 
tion of  open  doors  and  huge  fires  in  early 
spring !  In  response  to  an  invitation  to  enter, 
my  grandfather's  only  brother,  Charles  Hamil- 
ton, came  in.  He  was  a  fine  old  man ;  it 
warms  my  heart  to  think  of  him  now — tall, 
erect,  white-haired,  and  stately,  with  the  man- 
ner and  bearing  of  a  prince.  I  hastened  to  re- 
lieve him  of  coat  and  of  cane,  and  seat  him  at 
the  fire  where  the  light  would  not  dazzle  his 
glasses ;  he  thanked  me,  with  a  smile  and  a 
wave  of  his  hand. 

A  little  talk — a  compliment  to  my  grand- 
mother on  the  fact  that  at  each  of  his  visits 
she  seemed  to  have  grown  younger,  a  reproach 
to  me  for  being  chary  of  my  visits  to  him — and 
he  turned  to  his  brother. 

"Alec!"  (and  I  wish  I  could  put  into  the 
printed  word  the  tenderness  of  his  utterance, 
for  there  was  something  even  pathetic  in  his 
163 


Juletty 

tone  as  he  spoke  the  name) — "Alec,  my 
brother,  we  are  growing  old 

"  Well,  dammit,  who  disputes  it  ? "  blurted 
his  brother. 

Outwardly  the  two  were  as  opposite  as  the 
poles ;  inwardly  they  were  in  perfect  accord. 
To  the  startling  interruption  the  other  replied, 
"Oh,  no  one;  no  one  at  all.  We  have  had 
many  business  transactions  together,  and  we 
have  had  no  balancing  of  accounts,  no  settle- 
ment of  any  sort  for  fifty  years,  though  in  that 
time  we  have  done  business  amounting  to 
thousands  of  dollars."  I  arose  immediately  to 
leave  the  room,  having  no  mind  to  be  a  witness 
in  a  settlement  of  that  sort  with  my  choleric 
old  ancestor  for  a  party  to  it,  but  he  stopped 
me :  "  No,  sir,  just  stay  right  where  you  are  ; 
you  are  exactly  like  your  father,  ready  to  sneak 
out  of  every  tight  place  when  you  can."  I  sat 
down  with  a  laugh,  and  he  turned  to  Uncle 
Charles. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  want  with  a  settle- 
ment, Charles?  I'm  satisfied,  ain't  you?  If 
you  ain't,  say  what's  comin'  ter  you,  and  I'll 
pay  it." 

"  No,  no,  Alec ;  not  that  way ;  not  so  fast. 
164 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

Indeed,  I  think  I  owe  you  ;  but  let  everything 
be  done  decently  and  in  order." 

"  Well,  if  nothin'  else  will  do  you,  come  on ; 
I've  got  as  good  er  memory  as  you  have." 

Then  followed  what  was  without  doubt  the 
strangest  business  transaction  I  ever  witnessed. 
Neither  party  had  the  scratch  of  a  pen  for 
reference,  but  both  delved  into  their  memories 
of  the  past  for  such  items  as: 

"  My  Tom  stayed  a  month  helping  you  in 
tobacco,  and  your  Sally  cooked  for  us  one 
month  when  Maria's  baby  was  born." 

"  That  three  thousand  dollars  I  borrowed  of 
you  was  paid  by  nigger  Tom  and  a  pair  of  car- 
riage horses,"  and  so  forth. 

They  agreed,  till  Uncle  Charles  said  : 

"  Alec  gave  him  all  the  wood  he  wanted  out 
of  the  oak  grove." 

"No,"  interrupted  grandfather,  "I  didn't 
say  it." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  said  all  you  needed,  and  thar's  er  darned 
sight  er  difference.  Not  that  you  cut  a  single 
stick  you  wasn't  welcome  to,  but  I  like  to  be 
quoted  right." 

After  discussing  and  settling  a  hundred 
165 


Juletty 

points  the  pair  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
my  Uncle  Charles  owed  his  brother  three 
hundred  dollars. 

He  at  once  dipped  his  hand  in  his  coat-tail 
pocket  and  drew  forth  an  old,  well-worn,  slick 
pocketbook,  opened  it  and  began  counting  out 
bills,  smoothing  each  over  his  knee  in  turn. 
Grandfather,  looking  on,  cleared  his  throat, 
fidgeted,  and  finally,  after  much  hesitation, 
remarked : 

"  Never  mind  now,  Charles ;  any  time  will 
do  for  that." 

"  The  present  is  the  best  of  times,  for  it  is 
all  we  really  possess,"  said  the  other,  gravely 
continuing  his  count. 

Grandfather  rose,  hobbled  up  and  down  the 
room  on  his  rheumatic  legs  for  several  turns, 
and  then  repeated  vociferously  : 

"  Never  mind,  Charles,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  always  pay  my  debts,  Alec  " — still  count- 
ing. 

"  To  hell  with  your  debts  !  You  don't  owe 
me  a  darned  cent,  sir."  Uncle  Charles  then 
looked  over  his  spectacles  to  see  the  big  tears 
rolling  over  his  brother's  ruddy  cheeks,  to  see 
that  the  bighearted  man  would  rather  die  than 

166 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

touch  that  money,  though  it  was  the  expres- 
sive face,  not  the  tongue,  that  said — "  What, 
money  a  question  between  us  two  ?  What  are 
a  few  paltry  dollars  to  brothers  ?  All  that  I 
have  is  yours  if  you  should  need  it  ;  let  noth- 
ing so  sordid  as  the  payment  of  bills  pass 
between  us." 

The  face  really  told  all  that,  but  the  way- 
ward tongue  only  said,  as  he  made  an  effort  to 
appear  rough  and  drowsy  : 

"  Dammit,  Charles,  you  goin'  ter  set  here 
talkin'  about  nothin'  all  night  ?  Put  up  your 
money  and  go  home,  or  stay  here  and  go  to 
bed  ;  I'm  sleepy." 

With  a  tightening  at  our  windpipes  we 
laughed  at  his  transparent  desire  to  hide  his 
warm,  generous  soul,  and  he  joined  us  in  it. 

I  ran  upstairs  for  a  heavy  coat  to  walk  to 
the  avenue  gate  with  the  guest,  and  as  I  passed 
the  open  door  of  Buddy  s  room  (his  mother 
had  coaxed  him  to  stay  for  a  rest)  I  heard  him 
tell  his  wife  : 

"You  will  see  I  am  not  such  a  fool  some 

day,  Ellen.     Strawberries  are  the  thing,  since 

nothing  will  do  you  and  father  but  that  I  stay 

on  the  farm.     Only  think,    strawberries   sold 

167 


Juletty 

last  year  the  season  through  at  fifty  cents  per 
quart.  Now  I  have  raised  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  quarts  on  one-eighth  of  an  acre,  by 
actual  measurement — that  would  be  twelve  hun- 
dred quarts  to  the  acre  ;  twelve  hundred  quarts 
at  fifty  cents  per  quart  would  be  six  hundred 
dollars.  At  six  hundred  dollars  for  one  acre, 
my  whole  farm  of  five  hundred  acres  would 
bring  thirty  thousand  dollars ;  keep  it  up  ten 
years  and  I'd  be  worth  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars  !  Then  I  would  retire  and  fiddle  away 
the  rest  of  my  days ;  and  we  could  be  happy, 
couldn't  we,  dear?" 

I  slipped  guiltily  away  and  proceeded  to  the 
"pike  gate"  with  uncle;  then,  having  said 
good-night,  I  started  back  alone.  I  paced 
slowly  along,  with  my  hands  in  my  pockets  and 
my  eyes  on  the  north  star,  wondering  if  Juliet 
were  looking  at  it  and  thinking  of  me.  About 
half-way  home  I  stumbled — after  the  manner 
of  star  gazers — and  fell  prone. 

At  the  moment  of  my  fall  I  heard  the  sharp 
report  of  a  pistol  near,  and  felt  a  sting  as  of  a 
red-hot  needle  passing  across  the  back  of  my 
head.  I  failed  at  first  to  connect  sensation 
and  sound,  but  as  I  lay  to  gather  together  my 
168 


In  Which  First  Blood  is  Drawn 

scattered  senses,  I  heard  rapid  retreating  foot- 
steps that  startled  me  into  thought.  I  sat  up, 
put  my  hand  to  my  head,  and  shuddered  to 
draw  it  away  dripping  with  blood.  I  saw 
plainly  that  my  stumble  had  saved  my  life, 
though  I  could  not  think  who  could  have  cared 
to  assassinate  me,  till  I  remembered  the  cave 
experience,  and  realized  it  must  have  been 
Al  Lincque. 

Would  disappointed  love  occasion  all  that 
enmity  ? 

As  I  walked  to  the  house  I  for  the  first  time 
had  a  thought,  which  might  have  occurred  to 
me  before  but  that  I  was  too  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  Lincque  family :  perhaps  I  had 
shown  too  much  curiosity  about  that  illicit 
still. 

Was  that  where  the  shoe  pinched  Al 
Lincque  ? 


169 


CHAPTER  IX 

In  Which  "  Buddy  "  Proves  Game 


CHAPTER   IX 

i 
IN  WHICH  "BUDDY"  PROVES  GAME 

ONE  of  the  most  noteworthy  physical  pecu- 
liarities of  Warren  County — except  that  it 
produces  pennyrile  rather  than  blue  grass — is 
the  sudden  rise  of  water  which  makes  what  is 
called  "  Rich  Pond  "  and  gives  the  name  to  the 
railway  station  below  Bowling  Green. 

Usually  it  is  no  pond  at  all,  the  land  being 
under  cultivation  when  it  is  not  under  water. 

In  one  of  my  grandfather's  fields  about  one 
mile  from  the  station  there  is  an  immense 
crevasse  known  to  the  farmers  thereabouts  as 
"  The  Big  Sink  Hole,"  and  in  a  very  rainy 
season  this  sink  hole  throws  from  its  capacious 
maw  a  volume  of  water  that  is  beyond  estima- 
tion. 

Silent  and  irresistible  as  the  rider  of  the  pale 

horse,  it  spreads  its  limpid  way    spite  of   all 

obstacles,  all  diking,  all  cementing  that  years 

of  thought  and  labor  have  contrived,  until  the 

i73 


Juletty 

public  highway  is  submerged  and  travel  ren- 
dered dangerous.  Even  as  the  far-famed  Nile 
buries  its  glorious  valley,  so  does  this  subter- 
ranean stream  at  times  break  forth  to  bury 
hundreds  of  fertile  acres. 

Fences  are  destroyed,  barns  swept  away,  and 
stock  killed.  The  receding  water  leaves  an 
alluvial  deposit  so  rich  as  to  produce  the  most 
magnificent  corn  and  wheat  crops  in  Kentucky, 
yet  the  damage  done  is  greater  than  the  com- 
pensation received,  and  any  civil  engineer  who 
could  prevent  the  flood  or  divert  it  into  a 
harmless  channel  would  be  well  rewarded. 

The  source  of  the  stream  is  an  unsolved 
problem.  Buddy,  whose  dreamy,  poetic  fan- 
cies asserted  themselves  early  in  life,  was  at 
the  tender  age  of  six  well-nigh  converted  to 
angelhood  while  bathing  in  its  waters.  To 
Buddy  the  water  seemed  warm  in  March 
weather,  and  when  the  fluid  had  been  suffi- 
ciently drained  from  his  lungs  to  admit  of 
speech,  he  spluttered,  "  Muvver,  it  comes  from 
China,  'cause  it  tastes  like  tea." 

No  scientist  has  advanced  so  satisfactory  a 
source,  and  "  the  water  from  China  "  it  is  to 
this  day. 


In  Which  "Buddy"  Proves  Game 

Doubtless  some  subterranean  river  in  that 
land  of  many  caverns  bursts  its  earthy  fetters, 
and  in  a  mad  longing  after  freedom  pours 
forth  from  its  dreary  prison. 

The  scratch  on  my  head  from  the  pistol  ball 
proved  rather  more  serious  than  I  had  at  first 
thought ;  I  felt  feverish  and  dizzy  for  several 
days  and  was  glad  to  keep  indoors. 

Being  covered  by  my  hair,  it  could  not 
betray  me,  and  I  kept  my  own  counsel  con- 
cerning it,  giving  as  explanation  of  my  indis- 
position the  common  excuse,  "  a  cold." 

I  felt  restless,  and  more  impatient  to  con- 
tinue my  hunt  for  that  still  than  ever.  Al's 
footsteps  after  the  firing  of  the  shot  that 
wounded  me  had  convinced  me  that  he  was 
the  man  I  was  after  and  intended  to  capture. 

During  my  confinement  I  heard  numerous 
references  to  "  ther  Grove  er  raisin',"  and  had 
heard  grandfather  say  to  the  negroes  when  he 
gave  the  night  orders,  "  Don't  fail  ter  move 
Henry's  gray  mare  ter-morrow  mawnin' ;  ther 
water'll  be  clar  over  that  barn  in  another 
twenty-four  hours,  and  he'd  die  if  anything 
happens  ter  her." 

Henry  was  the  eldest  son,  and  the  mare  in 
i75 


Juletty 

question  was  his  special  pet ;  her  speed  and 
sagacity  had  more  than  once  saved  his  life 
while  on  a  speculating  tour  in  Kansas  during 
the  days  of  Indian  raids,  r 

But  scarcely  had  the  next  day  dawned  when 
I  heard  an  excited  negro  call :  "  Marse  Alec ! 
MarseAlec!  Git  up  quick,  ther  Grove's  done 
riz  clare  over  de  wes'  fiel'  terbacker  barn,  an' 
Marse  Henry's  filly's  done  gone  up  fer  shore." 

I  sprang  hastily  from  my  bed,  and  in  a  few 
moments  joined  my  grandfather  hurrying  to 
the  border  of  the  placid  water,  whose  surface 
gave  no  hint  of  the  treacherous,  powerful  un- 
dercurrent. But  for  the  elevated  situation  of 
the  house  there  would  have  been  reason  to 
fear  for  the  safety  of  the  family ;  as  it  was,  the 
water  lapped  the  base  of  the  lawn  fence  and 
stretched  away  as  far  as  we  might  look — north, 
south,  and  west. 

I  could  scarcely  credit  my  senses ;  where, 
three  days  before,  last  year's  cornstalks  and 
tobacco  leaves  had  lain  thick  upon  the  ground, 
was  a  huge  lake. 

A  group  of  excited,  gesticulating  negroes 
had  preceded  us  and  were  making  dire  prophe- 
cies as  to  what  "  Marse  Henry  "  would  say  and 
176 


In  Which  "  Buddy "  Proves  Game 

do  when  he  should  hear  of  his  mare's  death, 
which  it  was  evident  could  not  be  prevented. 

The  tobacco  barn  like  the  dwelling,  was 
built  on  a  knoll ;  both  had  stood  clear  of  the 
water  long  after  the  valley  between  was  sub- 
merged. On  our  arrival  at  the  lake  we  dis- 
covered that  only  the  lower  part  of  the  barn 
had  been  flooded,  but  the  tide  was  rapidly 
swelling.  The  building  was  unoccupied  save 
by  the  little  mare,  and  we  could  see  her  quite 
plainly,  for  the  force  of  the  water  had  washed 
the  door  of  her  stall  from  its  hinges. 

"  Ef  she  hadn't  al'ays  been  ther  bigges* 
rogue  on  the  farm  she  might  er  saved  herse'f," 
said  one  of  the  negroes  ;  "  we  al'ays  haster 
fas'en  her  up  like  er  runaway  nigger.  Dat  ar 
halter  ain'  er  gwineter  break,  nother ;  no,  sir, 
she's  dar  ter  stay,"  and  he  rolled  his  black 
eyes  and  shook  his  woolly  head  and  wondered 
"what  in  de  worl'  Marse  Henry  would  say." 
When  the  animal  saw  us  she  pricked  up  her 
delicate  ears  and  whinnied  in  short,  soft  notes 
that  said  plainly  as  human  voice  might  have 
called  :  "  Help  !  Help  !  Help  !  " 

"  Boys,"  said  grandfather,  turning  to  the 
negroes  who  had  come,  "the  man  who  saves 
12  177 


Juletty 

that  mare  can  pick  the  best  pair  of  mules  on 
my  farm  for  his  own." 

They  exchanged  glances  with  each  other,  but 
made  no  move. 

"  I'll  add  a  good  milk  cow." 

No  response. 

"  I'll  throw  in  five  acres  of  tobacco  land  and 
a  cabin." 

That  meant  wealth  to  any  negro,  and  one  of 
them,  stung  to  exasperation  by  the  riches  so 
near  and  yet  so  far,  cried  out :  "  Yessah ;  but 
dat  water's  deep,  lemme  tell  you,  mon. 

"  An'  den  eben  sposin'  yer  could  swim,  dat 
filly's  skeered ;  an'  tain'  no  fun  er  leadin'  er 
skeered  hoss  in  er  swif  cyurren*.  Den  'sides, 
hit's  leas'  er  quarter  uv  er  mile  dar  an'  back ; 
ain'  nobody  whut  keers  fer  deyselves  gwineter 
go  into  dat  ar  rat  trap.  Umph,  oo  ! " 

"  Get  a  skiff,"  I  suggested. 

"Ain'  no  skift  nearer'n  de  craik,  an'  dat 
filly  done  be  drowned  and  furgot  she  had  ter 
drowned  'fore  yer'd  git  dar  an'  back  ter  save 
yer  life." 

Grandfather  looked  at  the  poor  mare  striving 
to  free  herself  from  the  confining  halter,  and 
cried  angrily : 

178 


In  Which  "Buddy"  Proves  Game 

"You  cowardly  curs!  You  wouldn't  risk 
your  black  necks  for  your  soul's  salvation." 
Then  he  added  devoutly,  "Dam  this  rheuma- 
tism! I've  er  great  notion  ter  try  it  any- 
way." 

I  knew  a  part  of  his  contempt  was  for  me,  but 
my  head  was  still  too  painful  for  me  to  run  any 
risk — though  he  did  not  know  that — and  the 
case  seemed  hopeless.  While  we  stood  on  the 
bank  the  water  had  risen  to  her  halter  strap, 
and  she  could  only  keep  her  head  clear  of  it 
by  the  tightness  of  the  tether.  That  she 
managed  to  keep  upright  at  all  must  have 
been  due  to  a  swimming  motion  of  her  feet. 

In  the  midst  of  our  despair  for  her  a  cheery 
voice  back  of  us  shouted :  "  Hello !  What's 
up,  what's  up?" 

"The  Grove,"  answered  grandfather  lacon- 
ically. 

Buddy  laughed  good-naturedly,  for  it  was 
he,  late  as  usual,  and  with  his  rifle  across  his 
shoulder. 

One  glance  made  him  master  of  the  entire 

situation,  and  he  turned  with  flashing  eyes  to 

the   cowering  darkies,  and   cried :    "  Are  you 

going  to  stand  there  and  see  the  best  mare 

179 


Juletty 

that  ever  breathed  drown?  Off  with  your 
clothes,  you  black  rascals,  and  bring  her 
out." 

Ah!  Buddy,  you  reckoned  without  your  host ; 
you  forgot  that  you  no  longer  spoke  to  slaves, 
but  free  men ;  not  one  of  them  budged,  and 
their  faces  grew  sullen  under  his  angry  glances. 
Then  Buddy  swore. 

Terrible  was  the  occasion  on  which  Buddy 
uttered  an  oath.  "  Dag-gone,  tarnation,  and 
death  ! "  he  shouted. 

That  was  his  best  swearing,  spite  of  his 
father's  fine  example.  "  Dag-gone,  tarnation, 
and  death  !  Then  I'll  do  it  myself."  Another 
moment  and  he  had  slipped  from  his  clothes, 
and,  white  and  shapely  as  a  marble  Apollo, 
dashed  to  the  water's  edge.  There  he  paused 
with  the  flash  of  a  new  thought  in  his  face ; 
he  turned,  caught  his  shining  rifle,  and  lifted 
the  barrel  to  his  face,  pressing  the  stock  to  his 
gleaming  shoulder. 

"  Don't,  Marse  Buddy,  don't  kill  'er,"  moaned 
a  negro. 

But  the  rifle  cracked,  and  was  dropped. 

Then  a  clear,  sweet  whistle   from  Buddy's 
lips  was  answered  by  a  low  whinnie. 
180 


In  Which  "Buddy"  Proves  Game 

His  rifle  ball  had  cut  the  mare's  strap  and 
she  was  free  to  come  to  him. 

She  thrust  her  head  from  the  doorway,  but 
drew  back. 

Again  the  sweet-toned  whistle,  and  then 
Buddy's  high,  clear  voice  rang  out  like  some 
silver  trumpet  encouraging  to  battle. 

"  Co'  up  !     Co'  up,  Lady  !  " 

Once  more  the  mare  essayed  obedience,  but 
the  strain  had  broken  her  nerve  and  she  dared 
not  leave  the  stall. 

Buddy  saw  that,  and  though  the  day  was  raw, 
he  walked  into  the  water ;  a  trifle  slowly  he 
moved,  to  accustom  himself  to  the  chill  till 
waist  deep,  then  he  struck  out  boldly. 

He  swam  with  magnificent,  swift  strokes, 
his  blond  head  backward  strained,  his  fair  face 
with  the  great  blue  eyes  lifted  from  the  water. 

A  huge  log  was  drifting  down  and  he  slacked 
for  it  to  pass,  and  then  we  realized  his  danger. 
He  called,  with  his  light,  cheery  tones:  "  Father, 
if  I  shouldn't  get  back,  be  good  to  Ellen  and 
the  babies." 

"Come  back,  my  son,  oh,  come  back!"  im- 
plored his  father. 

There  was  no  reply  to  this,  and  the  dancing 

iSi 


Juletty 

curls  were  blurred  as  the  breeze  lifted  them 
from  the  water.  Grandfather  was  colorless,  and 
his  clenched  hands  worked  in  convulsive  unison 
with  the  motions  of  the  swimmer.  A  long  sigh 
from  the  watchers  announced  my  uncle's  ar- 
rival at  the  barn,  but  no  one  spoke. 

We  could  see  him  reassure  the  mare  with 
caresses ;  then  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  his 
white  body  partially  slipped  from  the  water  as 
he  mounted  her,  and  saw  him  urge  her,  but 
she  shrank  in  fear.  Then  the  man's  head  bent 
close  to  the  mare's  dainty  ears,  and  we  knew  he 
was  speaking  her  courage.  She  approached  the 
door,  hesitated,  looked  back,  and  there — at  last 
he  had  her  out. 

One  plunge  and  they  were  on  the  homeward 
trip. 

How  weary  he  must  be ! 

Could  he  hold  out  ?     It  was  a  long  swim. 

They  were  doing  bravely  ;  half-way  over. 

Nearly  safe  ! 

Ah !  !  !  God  be  merciful !  so  near,  and 
then — even  as  we  gazed  unwinkingly  at  them 
they  disappeared,  and  the  treacherous  surface 
smiled  up  at  the  blue  sky  as  if  innocent  of 
blood-guiltiness. 

182 


In  Which  "Buddy"  Proves  Game 

A  loud  cry  from  the  eager  father,  and,  nearer 
than  when  sinking,  the  two  brave  heads  ap- 
peared, so  near  that  the  negroes  waded  out  and 
dragged  them  ashore.  Grandfather  caught  the 
slight  figure  in  his  arms,  wrapped  it  in  his 
great  coat,  and  ordered :  "  Carry  him  to  his 
mother." 

As  he  and  I  walked  behind  our  hero  I  could 
but  say  :  "  Ah,  but  it  was  a  reckless  risk  of  life, 
just  for  a  horse ! " 

Then  did  the  speaking  eyes  flash,  and  the 
indignant  tone  ring:  "And  tell  me,  in  God's 
name,  why  would  a  Kentuckian  risk  his  life, 
if  not  for  a  horse — or — or — a  woman  ?  " 


183 


CHAPTER  X 

In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 


CHAPTER    X 

IN   WHICH    HUNTER    AND    GAME  ARE    SNARED 

BUDDY  appeared  at  dinner  as  though  his 
morning  swim  were  a  part  of  his  every-day 
programme,  gay  and  debonair  as  ever.  I  saw 
but  one  difference :  his  mother's  pride  in  him 
shone  more  brightly  from  her  eyes,  and  his 
brandied  peaches  were  served  in  a  cut-glass 
dish  which  was  usually  reserved  for  state 
occasions. 

After  dinner  I  announced  that  I  was  going 
to  Mr.  Lincque's.  "Are  you  well  enough  to 
venture?"  asked  grandmother.  "If  you  will 
persist  in  going,  do  wrap  up  that  bthroat 
warmly.  I  am  opposed  to  you  riding  back 
in  the  night  air,  too ;  don't  risk  it,  son ;  stay 
there  over  night." 

I  gave  her  a  grateful  word,  not  only  for  the 
extra  time  she  allowed  me  with  Juliet,  but  for 
the  opportunity  it  would  give  me  for  prosecut- 
ing the  still-hunt.  Mitch  had  washed  his  hands 
187 


Juletty 

of  the  affair  after  the  cave  experience,  evidently 
considering  me  a  most  dangerous  comrade,  and 
so  I  would  be  alone,  and  was  much  mistaken 
if  I  did  not  unearth  something  of  importance 
by  morning. 

Declining  a  proffered  horse,  I  swung  along 
across  fields,  having  in  my  hand  the  yellow  jug, 
which  was  the  only  weapon  of  war  I  carried  on 
these  expeditions. 

I  had  no  intention  of  visiting  Juliet  until  I 
had  made  some  move  towards  a  capture,  with 
which  end  in  view  I  placed  jug  and  coin  on  the 
stump,  and  seated  myself  behind  it,  where  I 
was  completely  hidden  from  the  sight  of  any 
one  who  might  approach  through  the  thicket. 
Knowing  it  was  from  thence  the  distiller  would 
come,  I  strained  my  hearing  to  catch  the  first 
indication  of  his  nearness,  half  wishing  I  had 
broken  my  rule  and  brought  my  pistol  in  case 
of  an  encounter. 

I  had  sat  there  an  hour  when  the  clear  note 
of  a  mocking-bird  fell  upon  my  ear;  it  was 
Jim's  peculiar  whistle,  and  I  looked  around  in 
some  irritation  that  he  was  forever  intruding 
on  my  watches. 

There  he  came,  down  the  path,  swinging  in 

iSS 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

his  left  hand  the  duplicate  of  my  yellow  jug ; 
his  face  brightened  when  he  saw  me,  and  he 
shouted  merrily: 

"Hello!" 

I  replied  as  heartily  as  I  could,  which  is  not 
much  to  say,  especially  as  I  saw  that  he  was 
followed  by  Al  Lincque's  slouching  figure.  I, 
however,  offered  them  seats  beside  me.  They 
accepted,  and  Jim  placed  his  jug  by  mine.  I 
jokingly  reminded  him  that  he  had  forgotten 
the  requisite  coin. 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  no  whiskey  nor  brandy 
neither;  that's  my  water  jug,"  he  said. 

After  a  few  minutes'  talk  Jim  started  up  with 
the  exclamation,  "I  gotter  git  my  lessons; 
won't  cher  come,  Mr.  Burton?" 

"  Not  this  time,  thank  you,  Jim." 

"  Well,  ef  yer  won't  yer  won't.  Good-by 
till  supper  time." 

Taking  his  jug,  he  started  to  leave  us. 

"  Be  sure  that  you  have  your  own  property," 
I  cautioned  him. 

"  Aw,  I'm  certain  erbout  that.  Mine  didn't 
have  no  money  under  it." 

Knowing  that,  I  only  glanced  at  the  stump, 
and  returned  Al's  inquiry  as  to  whether  I 
189 


Juletty 

would  go  to  the  house  with  a  "  No "  very 
positively  spoken.  Then  he  said  : 

"  I'm  er  goin'  ter  the  craik,  Mr.  Burton. 
Won't  cher  come  erlong?  She's  on  the  tar- 
nellest  boom  yer  ever  seen ;  er  washin'  logs 
and  drif  down  fit  ter  kill,  and  wide  's  ther 
Mississip.  I  ben  er  livin'  on  this  hyar  craik  all 
my  life,  an'  I  hain'  never  seen  nothin'  ter  ekal 
this  hyar  flood  yit.  One  thing  I  can  pintedly 
tell  yer,  and  that  is,  no  Buddy  couldn't  swim 
her  after  no  hoss  nor  no  'oman  neither.  Onct 
in,  thar  hain'  no  livin'  man  could  come  outen 
her." 

The  impressive  tone  of  the  last  sentence  I 
thought  wholly  unnecessary.  It  antagonized 
me.  I  knew  of  no  man  likely  to  swim  the 
creek,  and  answered  him  rather  brusquely: 

"  Not  this  evening,  thank  you.  I  shall  sit 
here  till  late  and  then  spend  the  night  at  Mr. 
Lincque's." 

I  fancied  a  gleam  darted  from  his  dull 
eyes. 

"  They  hain'  er  spectin'  yer  home,  then  ?" 

"No,  not  till  this  jug  is  filled,"  I  said  mean- 
ingly. 

He  laid  his  hand  on  the  article  in  question 
190 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

and  tilted  it  to  one  side,  remarking,  as  if  he 
were  surprised : 

"  Why,  hit's  full  now ;  full  er  sumpin'.  Yer 
must  er  been  mistook  an'  got  holt  uv  ther 
wrong  jug." 

"  I  have  made  no  mistake,"  I  said  half  angrily, 
at  the  same  time  lifting  the  jug.  He  had  spoken 
truly  ;  it  was  full. 

"  Jim  made  this  mistake,  not  I.  He  has 
taken  the  wrong  jug." 

"  Then,  whar's  yer  money  ?  "  asked  Al. 

"  Gone,"  and  for  the  fourth  time  Jim  had 
interrupted  my  watch  so  that  it  had  resulted 
in  failure. 

"  Well,  yer  can  bet  cher  bottom  dollar  little 
Jimmie  never  took  that,"  he  said  threateningly. 

"  Certainly  not."  I  was  completely  mysti- 
fied. 

"Jimmie's  jug  had  water  in  it.  Taste  an' 
see  'f  this  un  has." 

I  pulled  out  the  cork  and  tasted  the  con- 
tents— brandy,  and  of  excellent  quality,  too ; 
peach  brandy  at  that.  I  suppose  I  showed 
tl  felt  chagrined,  for  Al  said  consolingly: 

"  Aw,  never  min'.  I  wouldn't  let  er  little 
thing  like  that  bother  me  ter  death.  Say,  Mr. 
191 


Juletty 

Burton,  whut  cher  wanter  be  er  stirrin'  eroun' 
hyar  fer,  meddlin'  in  other  folks'  business  enny- 
how  ?  I  tell  yer  whut,  'f  Fs  you  Fd  give  up 
ther  whole  blame  thing.  Whut  right  's  Uncle 
Sam  got  ter  be  er  sayin'  whut  we  all  gotter  do 
with  our-all's  apples  and  peaches  ?  Ain'  er 
man  got  es  good  er  right  ter  make  brandy 
outen  'em  as  ter  make  preserves?  Times  is  got 
so  all-fired  hard  er  feller's  gotter  do  somepin 
outen  ther  ordinary,  for  he  cain't  live  on  jes 
plain  crops  no  more. 

"  Then,  bersides,  he  cain't  make  perserves 
outen  all  his  things — he  cain't  afford  ther 
sugar.  Don't  nothin'  pay  in  Kentucky  sence 
ever'  durned  nigger's  got  er  crap  uv  somethin' 
er  nother.  Er  white  man's  fambly  's  gotter 
live,  an'  er  heap  uv  'em  cain't  make  both  ends 
meet  no  way  'cep'in'  makin'  er  leetle  brandy." 

The  unwonted  length  and  earnestness  of 
Al's  speech  surprised  me.  I  knew,  too,  by  its 
tenor  that  Jim  had  betrayed  the  fact  of  my 
being  a  United  States  marshal. 

"  The  majesty  of  the  law  must  be  upheld," 
I  quoted  stupidly. 

"  Majesty  uv  hell !  "  exploded  Al. 

To  the  illicit  distiller  of  Kentucky,  law  is 
192 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

simply  an  autocratic  usurpation  of  power  by  a 
wayward  but  powerful  set  of  men.  His  idea 
is  that  every  man  should  be  a  law  unto  him- 
self, controlling,  defending,  and  caring  for  his 
own,  and  devil  take  the  weakest.  He  consid- 
ers it  meritorious  when  he  evades  or  thwarts 
such  tyranny. 

"Come  on,"  continued  Al  coaxingly,  "yer 
work's  done  hyar ;  ain'  nothin'  more  gwineter 
happen.  Le's  walk  onter  ther  craik;  'taint  no 
morn'n  three  or  four  hunderd  yards,  an'  I 
wanter  talk  ter  yer.  Ef  yer  git  hongry  I'll  give 
yer  some  supper;  my  cabin's  down  thar;  I'm  er 
bachin'  it." 

The  tempting  bait  of  supper  in  Al's  bach- 
elor quarters  was  too  much  for  me,  and  I 
yielded.  As  we  walked  Al  held  forth  on  the 
hard  lot  of  a  distiller — that  is,  a  moonshiner — 
and  revealed  that  he  considered  him  a  martyr 
to  a  tyrannical  Government. 

"  Yer  see,"  he  said  argumentatively,  "  whut 
er  moonshiner  makes  is  jes'  pyure  whiskey  or 
brandy.  Now  them  darned  big-bugs,  whut 
pays  more  money  in  license  than  us  pore  folks 
ever  sees,  doctors  ther  stuff  till  it's  nothin'  but 
cole  pizen.  Thet's  whut  'tis,  rank  pizen  ;  an* 
13  193 


Juletty 

that's  ther  reason  we  haster  have  temp'rance 
societies  an'  things.  Moonshine  whiskey  don't 
never  make  nobody  raise  ther  devil." 

I  forbore  to  remind  him  of  Warren  County's 
moonshine  history,  but  let  him  have  his  say, 
and  it  was  only  interrupted  by  our  arrival  at 
the  creek. 

I  found  it  as  he  had  described :  the  insignifi- 
cant little  stream  had  become  a  wide  river,  on 
whose  rapid  current  great  heaps  of  drift  were 
whirling  past.  Even  as  we  stood  gazing  at  the 
spectacle  a  dead  cow  was  washed  by,  the 
heavy  animal  being  tossed  over  and  over,  now 
this  side,  now  that,  as  a  straw  is  tossed  in  an 
eddy. 

I  shuddered,  and  turned  from  the  sickening 
sight  ;  as  I  did  so  my  eyes  encountered  those 
of  Al,  for  his  were  fixed  on  me,  and  not  on  the 
whirling  water. 

"  Mr.  Burton,  won'cher  go  home,  and  gin 
this  hyar  hunt  up  ?  "  he  asked,  almost  entreat- 
ingly,  though  there  was  a  threat  there,  too. 

"  I  must   do  my  duty,  Al,"  I  said,  regret- 
fully, accepting  his  knowledge  of  my  employ- 
ment tacitly.     "  I  never  shirk  a  duty  because 
of  what  it  may  cost  me." 
194 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

"  No ;  but  this  hyar  business  might  hurt 
er  heap  uv  people  'sides  yerself.  Yer  don't 
wanter  hurt  nobody  else,  do  yer?" 

"  Never.  But  my  duty  comes  first,  what- 
ever the  results." 

"  It'd  put'  near  kill  Juletty,"  he  said,  with 
the  first  tenderness  I  had  ever  heard  in  his 
voice. 

I  made  no  reply  to  the  last  plea,  and  fancy- 
ing I  was  touched,  he  continued  confidentially: 

"  I  know  who's  er  runnin'  that  still,  an' 
'twould  jes'  break  'er  all  up  fer  him  ter  be 
foun'  out." 

"  You  are  mistaken  if  you  think  your  ex- 
posure in  crime  would  affect  Miss  Lincque," 
I  said  indignantly. 

"  Not  jes  es  fur  es  it  would  hurt  me  " — this 
was  humble  enough  ;  "  yer  needn't  be  afeered 
uv  me  er  thinkin'  too  much  uv  myse'f  in  that 
d'rection.  God  knows  I  love  'er,"  and  the  un- 
tutored, illiterate  fellow — elevated  to  the  gal- 
lantry of  knighthood  by  the  power  of  love- 
lifted  his  hat  and  stood  bareheaded  at  mention 
of  his  lady's  name  ;  "  but  I  love  'er  too  much 
ter  want  'er  tied  ter  sech  er  thing  es  me.  You 
air  er  fitter  mate  fer  sech  es  'er  than  me,  an' 
195 


Juletty 

yer  air  welcome  ter  make  'er  yer  wife.  But  es 
yer  deal  by  'er  all  ther  days  uv  yer  life,  so  may 
God  A'mighty  deal  by  you  and  yourn." 

I  was  silent  and  abashed,  knowing  I  could 
not  love  that  way. 

Then  Al's  mood  changed  and  he  recurred  to 
the  moonshine  topic. 

"  Yer  gwineter  go  home,  an'  let  this  thing 
erlone  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Whut  sorter  man  air  yer  ?  Won*  cher  do 
er  leetle  thing  lack  that  fer  ther  women  yer 
pertend  yer  love  ?  She  don't  keer  nothin'  er- 
bout  me,  but  thar's  them  mixed  up  in  it  whut 
'twould  break  'er  heart  ter  have  found  out. 
Cain't  yer  understan'  nothin'  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  willing  to  take  that  risk,"  I  said 
jauntily. 

"  Fer  Juletty's  sake  say  yer'll  play  quits, 
Mr.  Burton,"  he  persisted  imploringly. 

I  shook  my  head  and  turned  from  him. 

He  sprang  after  me,  his  giant  figure  alert 
and  wiry,  his  steel  gray  eyes  flashing  with  a 
strange,  animal-like  fire. 

"  Then,  by  God,  I'll  make  yer!"  he  cried 
hoarsely. 

196 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

I  avoided  him  and  thrust  my  hand  instinct- 
ively into  my  hip  pocket ;  of  course  it  was 
empty,  and  I  thought  what  a  fool  I  was  to 
have  had  it  so. 

Al  laughed  ;  he  knew  I  was  completely  in  his 
power. 

He  caught  my  arm  in  a  grip  that  hurt,  and 
turned  me  about  as  a  strong  man  plays  with 
a  little  child  ;  then  lifted  me  in  his  arms,  held 
me  above  him,  and  strode  to  the  water. 

I  looked  at  the  muddy,  dashing  waves  and 
listened  to  the  sullen  boom  ;  he  did  not  pause 
till  he  was  on  the  very  brink. 

"  Swear  yer  won't  make  ernother  move 
twodes  findin'  that  ar  still !  " 

I  was  silent. 

"  Thar'll  never  be  er  piece  uv  yer  foun',"  he 
warned. 

"  No,  but  you  will  hang  for  it,"  I  told  him 
coolly. 

"  Yer  raikon  I'd  keer  ?  But  I  wouldn't  hang ; 
'tain't  no  oncommon  thing  for  er  man  ter 
drownd  when  ther  craik's  on  er  tare." 

He  made  a  backward  motion  of  his  power- 
ful arms  as  if  to  toss  me  from  him.  It  was 
a  sickening  sensation,  and  I  closed  my  eyes, 
197 


Juletty 

thinking,    strangely    enough,    "  The   world   is 
very  beautiful,  even  through  cloud  and  wrack." 

He  did  not  throw,  but  drew  me  back,  poising 
me  above  him,  and  said  : 

"  I  hate  ter  kill  yer ;  yer'd  better  prommuss." 

There  was  regret  and  entreaty  in  his  voice  ; 
still  I  said  :  "  No." 

I  now  think  there  was  less  heroism  in  my 
decision  than  brute  stubbornness,  which  does 
sometimes  resist  to  the  death. 

Al  sighed,  lowered  his  arms,  and  placed  me 
once  more  on  earth. 

"  Yer  air  er  plucky  leetle  devil,"  he  said  ; 
"  come  on,  le's  go  ter  my  cabin  an'  arger  it  out. 
Nobody  '11  be  oneasy  about  yer;  ther  Hamil- 
tons  '11  think  yer  air  at  ther  Lincques's,  an' 
ther  Lincques's  '11  think  yer  air  at  ther 
HamiltonsV 

"  No ;  there  will  be  no  search  party  to  dis- 
turb your  deviltry,"  I  told  him  sarcastically. 

The  cabin  was  a  one-roomed  log  affair,  with 
an  immense  chimney  of  flat  rock  mortised  with 
clay.  This  chimney  afforded  the  neighbors  a 
standing  joke,  because  summer  and  winter,  day 
and  night,  smoke  issued  from  its  capacious 
mouth. 

198 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

Al  explained  this  fact  by  saying,  "  Yer  see,  I 
keep  up  ther  fire  all  ther  time,  an'  then  I  don't 
have  ter  split  no  kin'lin'.  I  never  would  er 
thought  uv  it  myse'f,  but  Uncle  Jim  Lincque 
has  kep'  his'n  up  fer  years  on  'count  er  rheu- 
matis,  an'  while  I  wuz  er  stayin'  ther  I  seen 
whut  er  good  thing  it  wuz  erbout  savin'  kin'lin', 
an'  so  I  jes  keeps  mine  up  same  way." 

I  remembered  the  characteristic  speech,  and 
noted  that  there  rose  from  the  wide  space  a 
column  of  smoke  against  the  gray  sky.  I  was 
glad  to  see  it,  for  it  gave  promise  of  warmth, 
and  I  was  chilled  through  by  the  raw  atmos- 
phere. 

"  Al,"  I  said,  "why  did  you  bring  me  down 
here  to  kill  me  ?  Why  did  you  not  make  sure 
of  me  when  you  shot  me  in  the  avenue,  at 
Skileland,  last  week?" 

"  I  thought  I  had,  when  I  seen  yer  fall ;  I 
don't  gener'ly  miss  my  mark,  an'  I  don't  know 
whut  wuz  ther  matter  'ith  me." 

He  displayed  no  other  feeling  than  being 
puzzled  at  his  failure.  I  would  not  gratify  him 
by  saying  it  was  my  stumble,  not  his  poor 
marksmanship,  and  we  kept  on  in  silence. 

When  we  reached  the  cabin,  he  pulled  the 
199 


Juletty 

twine  string  that  hung  through  a  hole  in  the 
door,  and  lifted  the  inner  latch  and  entered. 
He  placed  a  rush-bottomed  chair  for  me,  and 
stirred  the  fire  to  a  crackling  blaze.  I  drew 
close  to  it  and  spread  my  hands  to  the  grateful 
warmth. 

"  Cold  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes." 

"  Here,"  and  he  handed  me  a  glass  of  brandy. 

I  drained  it,  and  then  turned  to  give  him  the 
empty  glass ;  he  was  laying  the  table  deftly  as 
any  woman  might. 

In  a  deep  iron  baker,  over  the  glowing 
coals,  he  baked  corn  dodgers ;  on  a  griddle 
fried  huge  slices  of  red  ham  and  made  ex- 
cellent gravy. 

The  odors  were  deliciously  appetizing,  and 
when  seated  on  a  wooden  stool  at  the  bare 
deal  table  I  did  full  justice  to  mine  host's 
cooking.  He  eyed  me  curiously,  doubtless 
wondering  at  my  good  appetite  under  such 
circumstances,  finally  asking  :  "  Do  you  under- 
stan'  whut  I  fetched  ye  hyar  fer?" 

"  To  scare  me,  I  think,'5  I  said  good  natur- 
edly  and  easily. 

"  No,  by  hell!  I  don't  wanter  skeer  ye ;  I  jes 

200 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

waited  ter  gin  ye  er  showin'  fer  yer  alley. 
I  jes'  pintedly  couldn't  fling  yer  in  ther  craik 
'chout  givin'  yer  one  more  chanct ;  but  this  is 
shore  ther  las'  statement  I'm  gwineter  make 
erbout  it :  I'll  set  hyar  'ith  yer  till  midnight ;  ef 
yer  don't  gimme  yer  oath  ter  let  thet  still-hunt 
erlone,  an'  clear  out  an'  min'  yer  own  bizness, 
I'll  jes  take  yer  out  thar  an'  drap  yer  in  ther 
craik.  Ther  water'll  do  ther  res'." 

It  was  certainly  a  cold-blooded  announcement 
of  intended  murder.  But  the  man  looked  so  un- 
concerned and  evidently  considered  the  matter 
of  so  little  moment  I  felt  encouraged  to  think 
he  only  meant  to  frighten  me  into  submission, 
and  said  :  "  Come,  Al,  you  have  carried  your 
joke  far  enough  now ;  open  the  door  and  let 
me  go  home.  I  have  no  doubt  but  Jim  has 
told  Juliet  that  I  had  intended  to  take  supper 
with  her  this  evening,  and  has  also  told  her 
that  I  left  him  in  your  company,  so  if  I  do  not 
arrive  on  time  she  will  have  some  one  out  to 
look  for  me.  I  told  her  you  were  not  as 
friendly  to  me  as  you  might  be." 

It  was  useless  to  threaten  him  with  discovery  ; 
he  was  utterly  indifferent  to  such  suggestions 
and  only  answered  carelessly : 


Juletty 

"It's  ther  mistake  uv  yer  life  ef  yer  think 
I'm  er  foolin'.  I'm  in  dead  hard  earnest. 

"  Thar  ain't  no  danger  uv  people  er  huntin' 
fer  yer  'nother  ;  I  c'n  depen'  on  leetle 
Jimmie." 

Then  Al's  lips  parted  in  the  distortion  that 
served  him  for  a  smile ;  he  shook  his  head  and 
kicked  an  inoffensive  bit  of  wood.  "Yer  air 
ther  all-firedest  fool !  Yer  think  yerself  so 
smart,  too.  I  raik'n  'tain't  no  harm  ter  tell 
yer  how  cute  leetle  Jimmie  were.  Cose  he 
did'n  do  ther  changin'  er  them  jugs  at  ther 
stump,  but  he  seen  ter  it  thet  ther  feller  whut 
did  do  hit  got  ther  chanct.  Now  wuzn't  yer 
er  fool  ter  b'lieve  in  thet  study  bizness?  Hang 
ther  study  !  Ther  whole  blame  thing  wuz  fixt 
on  purpose  fer  that  stump  doin's,  an'  yer'd  er 
knowed  hit  long  ergo  if  yer  hadn'  been  head 
over  heels  in  love  'ith  Juletty.  But  I  will  say 
this  much  fer  yer — yer  hain't  no  born  fool,  yer 
jes*  er  woman  s  fool,  an'  yer  couldn'  see  no  harm 
in  none  er  Juletty 's  folks.  Jimmie  done  tole 
me  how  he  got  cher  ter  look  at  pidgins,  an' 
taste  outen  his  jug,  an'  sech  foolishness,  while 
he  wuz  er  givin'  t'other  man  a  chanct  ter  change 
yer  jug ;  Jimmie's  er  sharp  un." 

202 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

Al  chuckled  at  my  folly  and  I  was  too  mor- 
tified to  speak. 

"  I  done  tole  yer  that  much  I'll  jes  make  er 
clean  breas'  uv  it,"  he  continued  meditatively. 
"  I  tole  yer  I  run  that  still,  an'  hit's  er  fac' ; 
but  I  hain't  tole  yer  whar  I  got  ther  money. 
Thet  still  I'm  er  runnin'  cost  er  thousan'  dol- 
lars ef  hit  cost  er  cent,  an'  I  never  had  that 
much  spon  in  all  my  life.  'Sides  that,  ef  I  had 
er  thousan'  dollars  whut  in  hell  would  I  want 
with  er  still  er  anythin'  else  ?  I'd  jes'  lay  up  an' 
live  "on  ther  interes'  er  my  money.  Now,  ther 
reason  I'm  er  tellin'  yer  this  is  ter  show  yer 
thet  it  hain't  fer  my  own  sake  I'm  er  goin'  ter 
put  yer  outen  ther  way ;  hit's  fer  ther  sake  uv 
the  feller  whut's  runnin'  ther  still  with  his 
money.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  tell  no  names,  but  I 
will  say  thet  if  this  feller  wuz  ter  be  foun'  out 
'twould  erbout  kill  Juletty.  I  b'lieve  he  would 
er  ben,  too,  long  ergo,  ef  it  had'n  ben  fer  thet 
hunderd  dollars  Mr.  Lincque  offered  fer  him, 
thet  diverted  'spicion  uv  folks  whut  did'n  have 
right  good,  keen  hoss  sense." 

I  winced  at  his  inference,  but  said:  "  Of  course, 
Al,  I  know  by  this  time  that  the  owner  of  that 
illicit  still  is  old  Mr.  Lincque." 
203 


Juletty 

"  Hit  mought  be,  an'  ergin  it  moughtent," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Then  he  reads  his  Bible  to  divert  suspicion, 
too,  I  suppose?" 

"  No,  no,  he  don't ;  he's  ez  good  er  Christian 
ez  ever  lived.  He  don't  drink,  ner  smoke,  ner 
chew,  ner  cuss,  an'  he  does  more  charity'n 
anybody ;  allus  doin'  somebody  er  good  turn. 
Yessir,  Uncle  Jeems  is  er  good  man,  an'  this 
stillin'  don't  prove  nothin'  'pon  yeth  ergin  'im. 
'Sides,  everybody  knows  so  darn  well  thet 
Uncle  Sam  ain't  got  no  bizness  interferin'  'ith 
er  leetle  privit  stillin'  thet's  jestice  ter  git  ervvay 
'ith  'im.  But  thet  hain't  hyar  ner  thar;  ther 
queschin  is:  Air  yer  goin'  off  ter  Juletty,  or 
air  yer  goin'  ter  stay  'ith  me?" 

"  You  force  me  to  stay." 

"  I  hate  ter  ac'  ugly,  I  swan  I  do ;  but  hit's 
you  thet's  er  usin'  force.  Jes'  swar  yer'll  quit 
ther  hunt,  an'  I'll  let  yer  out  in  er  minnit  an' 
thank  yer  fer  ther  privileege,  an'  'scort  yer 
home  ter  Juletty." 

I  had  no  further  doubt  as  to  his  real  inten- 
tion after  the  urgency  of  that  speech.  The 
man  meant  murder ;  more  than  that,  he  had 
no  sense  of  sin  in  the  deed  ;  to  protect  his 
204 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

friends,  he  felt  he  would  do  God  service  in 
murdering  me. 

"  Don't  say  '  can't '  no  more  till  twelve 
erclock,"  he  said,  and  laid  his  large  silver  watch 
open  on  the  table  between  us. 

I  compared  his  time  with  mine  and  grum- 
bled aloud : 

"You  are  ten  minutes  ahead  of  me;  you 
must  give  me  the  advantage  of  that  ten  min- 
utes." 

He  carefully  turned  back  the  hands  of  his 
watch,  remarking: 

"  I'm  er  givin'  yer  thet  ten  minnits,  fer  my 
watch  is  allers  karect,  an'  haint  varied  in  ten 
year  er  ha'r's  breadth." 

I  faced  about,  leaned  forward  so  my  eyes 
were  close  to  his,  and  asked  him  sternly  and 
slowly,  that  he  might  realize  what  he  did  : 

"  Al,  do  you  really  mean  to  murder  me  for 
a  few  dollars  ?  " 

He  glared  at  me  angrily. 

"  I  hain't  hired  ter  do  this  thing." 

"  No  ;  but  you  would  do  murder  in  order  to 
make  money  from  illegal  distilling." 

"  Dam  yer  'licit  'stillin' ;  I  done  tole  yer 
thet's  all  humbug.  I  hain't  er  puttin*  yer  out 
205 


Juletty 

ther  way  to  save  my  own  hide,  I  tell  yer ;  I'm 
er  doin'  hit  fer  Juletty." 

It  was  a  waste  of  words  to  argue  with  him. 

The  situation  was  strained,  but  by  no  means 
hopeless. 

I  felt  sure  that  Jimmie  knew  of  Al's  inten- 
tion when  he  saw  him  decoy  me  off  to  the 
creek,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  impossible 
for  his  childish  heart  (and  James  was  little 
more  than  a  child)  to  endure  the  knowledge 
that  murder  was  being  done  in  the  lonely  cabin 
on  the  hillside.  I  fancied  how  he  would  be 
haunted  by  a  vision  of  the  foul  deed,  and 
finally  would  be  overcome  with  pity  for  the 
fate  of  his  friend,  for  such  I  had  been  to  the 
boy.  Thinking  these  things  I  did  not,  as  I. 
have  said,  feel  hopeless,  but  continually  looked 
for  the  help  that  Jim  would  send  when  I  failed 
to  turn  up  at  his  house  for  supper.  I  did  not 
depend  on  that  alone,  however,  but  racked  my 
brain  for  some  feasible  plan  of  escape  in  case 
the  hoped-for  help  should  fail  me.  Only  one 
plan  appeared  to  be  practicable — I  would  keep 
silent ;  I  would  utter  not  one  word,  and  Al 
might,  after  his  hard  day's  work,  grow  weary 
and  fall  asleep,  thus  giving  me  an  opportunity 
206 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

to  slip  quietly  out  the  latched  door  and  escape 
him  in  the  darkness.  There  could  not  be  a 
question  of  battling  with  his  strength ;  even 
had  I  been  my  usual  self,  I  would  have  been 
as  a  child  to  him. 

Furtively  I  watched  his  face  for  some  sign 
of  fatigue ;  but  he  continued  to  gaze  unwink- 
ingly  into  the  fire,  as  if  hypnotized. 

Again  and  again  I  glanced  from  his  face  to 
the  open  watch  on  the  table  ;  finally  the  hands 
pointed  to  half-past  ten,  and  the  gray  eyes 
were  still  wide  open. 

I  had  only  one  hour  and  a  half  to  live  unless 
some  one  interfered. 

While  the  thought  was  but  half  formed  Al 
sighed,  folded  his  arms,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

My  hope  revived. 

But  he  was  fighting  the  feeling  of  sleep,  and 
again  the  keen  eyes  were  opened  and  fixed  on 
me. 

Then  they  sought  the  firelight  again  ;  closed 
slowly  once  or  twice,  and  failed  to  open  again. 

I  shufHed  my  feet  noisily  on  the  bare  floor. 

He  did  not  stir;  his  big  chest  rose  and  fell 
regularly,  and  I  could  hear  his  heavy  breath- 
ing. 

207 


Juletty 

Again  I  passed  my  foot  scrapingly  across 
the  planks ;  still  he  made  no  movement. 

My  heart-throbs  were  almost  stifling. 

I  arose  from  my  chair ;  half  turned  my  body 
as  I  did  so,  that  I  might  in  that  way  save 
the  extra  step  it  would  have  otherwise  re- 
quired, and  stood  a  half  second  facing  the 
door. 

Softly  then  I  crept  across  the  room ;  slowly 
and  stiffly,  lest  even  that  motion  should  betray 
me,  I  stretched  forth  my  arm,  and  felt  my 
whole  body  thrill  with  hope  as  I  placed  my 
fingers  lightly  on  the  latchstring,  drew  it  to 
me  slowly  and  gently,  oh,  how  gently,  and — 
thank  heaven  —  sprang  joyously  through  the 
opened  door,  with — Al's  iron  grip  on  my 
shoulder. 

"  Tis  er  bad  night,"  he  said,  carelessly,  as  if 
in  answer  to  a  question  from  me  ;  "  ther  win's  er 
raisin'  and  hit's  er  turnin'  chilly.  Better  draw 
up  clost  ter  ther  foire." 

I  made  no  resistance — what  was  the  use — 
but  turned  and  walked  back  with  him  to  the 
fireplace. 

The  watch  said  half-past  eleven. 

One  more  half  hour  of  life. 
208 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

As  he  had  said,  the  wind  was  rising.  It  swept 
in  great  gusts  down  the  wide,  gaping  chimney, 
beating  blazes  and  ashes  half  across  the  huge 
hearth. 

Each  moment  the  storm  seemed  to  lash 
itself  into  a  greater  fury,  and  howled  through 
the  neighboring  trees  of  the  forest  like  a  regi- 
ment of  fiends. 

"  I'm  er  feered  hit's  er  comin'  on  ter  storm," 
said  Al  lightly. 

The  tempest  had  no  terrors  for  him. 

"  Up  u-u-ugh  !  Oo-oo-oo-ooh,"  moaned  the 
wind.  Then  more  angily,  more  loudly,  more 
swiftly,  it  shook  the  door. 

"  Ugh  !  O6gh!  Oogh  !  "  it  shrieked. 

Al  had  neglected  to  replenish  the  fire,  and 
it  had  died  down ;  there  was  neither  lamp  nor 
candle,  and  the  partially  darkened  room  was 
lighted  fitfully  by  flash  after  flash  of  lightning, 
while  the  frightful  peals  of  thunder  scarcely 
gave  pause.  There  was  sound  of  snapping 
limbs  and  falling  trees  in  the  distance,  giving 
warning  of  evil  to  come. 

"  Cra-a-a-sh ! " 

Close  at  hand  was  that  last  furious  sound, 
and  for  the  first  time  Al  showed  that  he  had  a 
14  209 


Juletty 

special  interest  in  the  wild  work  of  the  tem- 
pestuous night. 

"Thet's  my  pine,  by  ther  chimbley,"  he 
said. 

Then  crash  succeeded  crash,  as  if  the  entire 
woods  were  being  destroyed. 

Ah,  what  was  that  ? 

Far  off,  so  that  we  bent  our  heads  to  catch 
the  sound,  we  heard  above  the  crash  of  falling 
trees  and  pealing  thunder  a  muffled  whine  as 
of  a  beast  in  mortal  pain. 

Nearer  it  came  and  louder. 

Nearer,  nearer,  louder,  louder;  all  sounds 
were  shrouded  in  the  hideous  din  as  it  ap- 
proached us.  v 

Never  had  roar  so  unearthly  greeted  my 
ears. 

We  started  from  our  seats  and  gazed  at  each 
other,  helpless  before  that  passionate  wail  of 
outraged  nature. 

Then  faintly  above  it  came  to  us  the  low  toll 
of  a  bell! 

A  bell  ?    And  tolling  ?     How  ? 

It  drew  nearer,  and  told  of  the  work  of  the 
tempest  in  hellish  glee ;  as  never  before  its 
very  words  smote  on  our  hearing. 

210 


In  Which  Hunter  and  Game  are  Snared 

"  Death,  death !  Death,  death  !  "  It  laughed 
in  telling. 

"  Er  ghost  bell,"  Al's  white  lips  murmured, 
in  superstition. 

"  Our  death-knell,"  I  whispered. 

Scarcely  had  I  spoken  when  the  cabin  shook 
in  every  timber,  reeled  like  a  drunken  thing, 
was  lifted  bodily  from  its  foundations — then 
overstrained  nature  gave  way,  and  I  became 
unconscious. 


CHAPTER  XI 

In  Which  I  Think  the  Game  Well  Worth 
the  Candle 


CHAPTER   XI 

IN     WHICH     I     THINK     THE      GAME      WELL 
WORTH   THE   CANDLE 

Is  it  the  infinite  wonder  of  Nature's  infinite 
moods  that  fills  our  mind  with  amazement  each 
time  we  watch  with  awed  eyes  and  thrilling 
hearts  the  placidity  that  always  succeeds  the 
tempest  ? 

I  recovered  sense  the  morning  after  that 
terrific  storm  to  find  the  air  a-tremble  with 
Spring  sunshine,  and  filled  with  the  stimulating 
fragrance  of  wet  earth,  sweetest  of  odors ;  to 
hear  the  cheery  twitter,  twitter  of  many  birds, 
and  to  note  how  busy  they  were,  as  they 
flirted  with  each  other  among  the  branches 
of  fallen  trees,  regardless  that  death  and 
horror  had  been  abroad  on  the  wings  of  the 
night  wind. 

I  watched  them  with  childlike,  irresponsible 
interest  in  their  motions,  and  then  fell  to  won- 
dering, listlessly  and  vaguely,  why  I  should 
215 


Juletty 

have  spent  the  preceding  night  out  of  doors, 
and  to  have  a  feeling  of  impatience  that  my 
limbs  were  numb  and  lifeless. 

All  at  once,  as  if  from  the  shock  of  a  sudden 
blow,  I  knew  ;  recalled  the  hideous  experiences 
of  the  night,  and  was  sensible  of  a  surprise  to 
be  still  alive. 

Remembered  Al,  and  turned  my  head  in 
search  of  him. 

I  had  not  far  to  look. 

There,  so  close  that  my  hand  might  have 
smoothed  from  the  dark  low  brow  the  be- 
draggled black  locks,  lay  my  enemy. 

Enemy  no  longer. 

There  was  no  need  to  fear  that  motionless 
figure. 

No  need  to  call,  to  touch,  to  examine  him. 

No  hand  but  Death  could  have  bestowed 
the  strange,  new  dignity  he  wore. 

Tender,  gentle,  beautiful  death. 

Man's  best,  but  least  appreciated  friend. 

A  heavy  beam  from  the  cabin  roof  lay  across 
his  chest ;  he  had  perished  in  the  downfall  of 
his  home. 

I  think  he  would  have  liked  it  thus. 

Poor  child  of  Nature,  and  of  poverty ;  filled 
216 


I  Think  the  Game  Worth  the  Candle 

with  innate  nobility,  crushed  and  forced  back 
upon  itself  by  environment. 

From  the  marsh  the  lily  grows  ? 

Yes,  but  it  also  sinks  and  perishes  there. 

Another  beam  confined  my  lower  limbs,  and 
it  was  that  which  had  deadened  them.  With 
a  great  effort  I  pulled  myself  to  a  sitting 
posture,  and  reached  forward  my  strong,  un- 
injured arms  to  free  myself. 

Folly! 

As  well  might  a  babe  have  tried  to  remove 
the  great  rough  log;  and  I  sank  back  exhausted 
by  even  that  slight  exertion,  so  greatly  had 
the  night  told  upon  my  strength. 

Then  I  began  to  speculate,  with  some  slight 
degree  of  interest,  as  to  how  long  I  might  be 
compelled  to  lie  there,  with  my  face  so  near 
the  face  of  the  dead. 

It  was  an  idle  thought ;  I  had  no  power  of 
active  thinking.  I  felt  no  dread  of  that  silent 
figure ;  no  repulsion  for  it ;  not  the  slightest 
sense  of  awe  at  its  presence. 

On  the  contrary,  I  had  a  certain  grim  pleas- 
ure in  wondering  if  it  could  be  possible  that 
Al  should  know  I  had  escaped  him.  Again 
I  thought  of  the  probability  of  my  staying 
217 


Juletty 

as  I  was  the  entire  day.  Such  might  easily 
be  the  case ;  each  family  of  my  friends  would 
think  me  with  the  other;  and,  unless  some 
intercourse  was  had  between  the  farms,  I 
might  lie  there  indefinitely.  The  thought 
was  not  a  pleasing  one,  and  roused  me  more 
decidedly. 

Suddenly  a  new  terror  awakened  all  my 
faculties  to  their  normal  state  ;  glancing  round, 
I  saw,  issuing  from  the  despoiled  hearthstone, 
a  tiny  column  of  blue  smoke,  and  realized  that 
a  spread  of  the  fire  meant  torture  to  me.  It 
was  then  I  set  to  work  systematically,  fear 
lending  force  to  my  labors.  What  should  I 
do  ?  My  hands,  unaided,  were  helpless  to  work 
with  the  heavy  beam.  Near  me  was  the  huge 
iron  poker,  which  had  been  a  menace  the 
night  before,  but  which  now  offered  a  chance 
of  escape. 

Reaching  for  it,  I  found  that  it  lay  beyond 
my  grasp. 

Strain  as  I  might,  only  the  very  tips  of  my 
fingers  touched  it.  Weak  as  I  was,  I  was  easily 
discouraged,  and  soon  gave  up,  twisting  over 
to  my  right  side,  that  I  might  await  the  ap- 
proach of  the  fire  without  seeing  it. 
218 


I  Think  the  Game  Worth  the  Candle 

But,  as  I  moved,  a  large  knife  I  carried  in 
my  trouser's  pocket  caught  between  my  leg  and 
the  beam,  and  the  pressure  bruised  my  flesh 
painfully.  The  pain  brought  another  gleam  of 
hope ;  wriggling  back  to  my  former  posture,  I 
slipped  my  hand  into  the  pocket,  and  brought 
forth  the  knife ;  opened  the  large  blade  half 
way,  thus  forming  of  blade  and  handle  a  hook, 
with  which  I  caught  the  curved  part  of  the 
poker  and  drew  it  to  me.  It  was  an  awkward 
instrument  to  handle,  but  I  finally  succeeded 
in  inserting  the  end  of  it  under  the  end  of  the 
beam,  near  my  body,  and,  using  it  as  a  lever, 
prized  the  encumbering  timber  upward  a  little 
— a  very  little. 

It  required  many  such  efforts,  slipping  the 
iron  a  little  closer  to  me  each  time,  before  I 
could  entirely  withdraw  my  aching  limbs.  I  lay 
still,  rubbing  the  numbness  from  them,  before 
attempting  to  crawl  toward  the  fire,  which  had 
made  no  headway.  Finally  I  crept  slowly  along 
— passing,  as  I  did  so,  the  bell  which  had  tolled 
with  such  shockingly  dismal  effect  in  the  night. 
I  saw  it  was  a  church  bell ;  the  cyclone  had  torn 
it  from  a  small  country  church,  a  mile  or  more 
from  the  cabin,  toyed  with  it  for  a  time,  and 
219 


Juletty 

then  cast  it  aside,  as  a  spoiled  child  tosses  away 
a  tiresome  plaything. 

Arrived  at  the  base  of  the  ruined  chimney, 
I  glanced  about  me  for  some  means  of  extin- 
guishing the  fire  that  had  caused  my  uneasiness. 
The  deep  baker  in  which  Al  had  cooked  his 
corn  dodgers  was  there,  and  the  rain  had 
filled  it  with  water.  I  seized  it  eagerly — but — 
where  was  the  fire  ? 

The  hearth  had  been  swept  by  the  wind,  so 
that  not  a  cinder  remained. 

Whence,  then,  that  wave  of  blue  smoke  that 
still  curled  upward  ?  It  issued  from  between 
the  limestones  that  made  the  hearth.  My 
heart  thrilled  with  the  conviction ;  my  hands 
trembled  ;  I  was  on  the  point  of  discovering 
that  elusive  still,  though  I  should  not  have 
known  it  but  for  Al's  revelations  of  the  night. 
I  knew,  if  I  could  only  force  up  one  of  those 
big  stones,  I  would  find  the  still  in  Al's  cellar, 
so  arranged  that  its  smoke  issued  from  the 
cabin  chimney.  That  explained  the  need  of  a 
fire  constantly  kept  up  ;  it  was  to  disguise  the 
still  smoke. 

Nervously,  I  thrust  the  handle  of  the  poker 
into  a  crevice  of  the  hearth,  and  prized  up  one 
220 


I  Think  the  Game  Worth  the  Candle 

of  the  stones,  tossing  as  I  did  so  a  small  frag- 
ment of  smoking  wood  from  the  interstice. 

That  was  the  cause  of  the  smoke ;  and  there 
was  no  sign  whatever  of  any  cellar  under  the 
cabin. 

Al  had  simply  lied  to  me. 

It  was  to  shield  some  one. 

Could  it  be,  in  truth,  the  sanctimonious  older 
Lincque  ? 

I  swore  a  solemn  oath,  there,  in  the  presence 
of  the  dead,  that  I  would  find  out. 

Then  voices,  shouts,  and  footsteps  told  of  a 
party  in  search  of  me,  and  I  called  to  them  my 
whereabouts. 


221 


CHAPTER   XII 

In  Which  t  Turn  Fox  Hunter 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN  WHICH   I  TURN  FOX   HUNTER 

To  love  and  to  be  loved  is  bliss  at  any  time. 
To  love  and  to  be  loved  in  leafy  June  is  a 
beatitude.  Lazy,  fragrant,  languorous,  straw- 
berrying  June  !  Her  days  are  visions  of  golden 
loveliness,  her  nights  are  dreams  of  silvery 
beauty ;  ideal  times  to  drive  over  ideal  roads 
with  one's  beloved,  who  knows  that  thoughts 
are  tangible  things  and  need  no  language  for 
interpretation. 

Juliet's  glorious  whiskey-colored  eyes  took 
on  a  softer,  mellower  glow,  and  the  odor  of 
her  auburn  tresses  was  sweeter  to  the  sense. 
Grandmother  was  regretful  that  so  much  of 
evil  had  occurred  during  my  visit  to  Skile- 
land,  but  I  truthfully  assured  her  they  were 
the  most  happy  and  delightful  months  of  my 
life. 

Many  "  parties,"  picnics,  cave  excursions  and 
the  usual  country  pleasures  I  had  enjoyed, 
15  225 


Juletty 

and  by  way  of   a  grand    finish  Uncle  Charles 
arranged  a  fox  hunt  for  my  special  pleasure. 

"  I  want  you  to  see  how  we  hunt  Mr.  Fox  in 
the  Pennyrile,"  he  said.  "  Come  over  to  my 
house  to-morrow  evening  to  supper.  You'd 
better  ride  Henry's  gray,  and  come  in  hunting 
clothes.  There  will  be  no  ladies.  Just  a  dozen 
or  so  jolly  hunters  to  spend  the  night  and 
enjoy  a  chase.  You  will  find  it  a  trifle  differ- 
ent from  the  Blue  Grass  chase — rather  a 
smoother  matter,  but  dogs,  horses,  and  men,  I 
promise  you,  of  a  quality  as  excellent  as  you 
can  find  in  the  State." 

I  believed  him  without  hesitation,  and  was 
glad  to  find  myself  riding  to  my  uncle's,  with 
Mitch  for  company,  on  the  appointed  after- 
noon. 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  going, 
Mitch?"  I  asked  him. 

"  Humph  !  Me  er  gwine  !  Don't  I  allers 
go  ?  I  knows  eber  man  whut'll  be  dar  fum 
eberwheres.  'Sides,  they  couldn't  hab  no  hunt 
less'n  I  wuz  dar  to  whup  in  de  obstrepolous 
dawgs." 

"You  say  you  were  reared  in  my  country, 
Mitch?" 

226 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

"  Yassah  !  Yassah,  I's  raised  right  in  erbout 
two  mile  uv  Lebnon.  I  'member  well  dat  ole 
hill  we  all  done  growed  up  on,  all  covered  wid 
myrtle." 

"  Well,  Mitch,  there  is  always  a  greenback 
like  this  in  my  purse  for  niggers  that  were 
reared  in  my  town." 

Mitch's  white  teeth  gleamed  as  he  pocketed 
the  bill. 

"  Yassah,  Marse  Jack ;  thank  yer.  I'm  er 
bleeged  ter  ye,  sah.  You's  gittin*  more'n  more 
like  ole  Marster  eber  day,  Marse  Jack." 

I  felt  deeply  grateful,  for  I  knew  Mitch  had 
reached  the  pinnacle  of  flattery  when  he  likened 
me  to  ole  Marster. 

We  found  Uncle  Charles  on  the  front  porch 
waiting  to  give  us  a  hunter's  welcome  and 
accentuate  it  by  an  iced  mint  julep.  Mitch 
was  commended  for  his  early  arrival  and  re- 
plied : 

"  I'se  des  boun'  ter  come  soon  an'  see  all  dem 
dawgs  whut's  er  comin',  an'  get  a  good  chanct 
ter  show  de  niggers,  whut's  er  comin  wid  dem, 
how  ornery  deir  dawgs  looks  sider  ourn. " 

Uncle  Charles  smiled  indulgently,  and 
ordered  him  to  put  his  dogs  in  the  kennel 
227 


Juletty 

and  wait  at  the  steps  to  receive  those  of  the 
guests.  Seated  on  the  end  of  the  porch,  behind 
a  pillar,  out  of  Mitch's  sight,  I  was  an  amused 
and  interested  listener  to  his  greetings  to  the 
various  arrivals. 

My  cousin,  Dick  Skiles,  rode  up  on  a  large  bay 
mare — it  must  needs  be  a  large  horse  that  car- 
ried Dick  through  a  hunt — and  was  followed 
by  three  handsome  hounds. 

"  Ebenin,  Marse  Dick,  ebenin' ;  how  is  yer, 
anyhow  ? "  asked  Mitch,  the  obsequious. 
"  Lute's  er  lookin'  fine,  Marse  Dick ;  I'll  take 
keer  uv  'er,  an*  see  'at  she  gits  started  fa'r  an' 
squar.  Thanky,  sah,  thanky,"  and  he  pocketed 
his  fee. 

He  only  addressed  the  family  by  the  title 
"  Marse  " ;  so,  when  the  next  rider  came  up 
and  dismounted,  he  changed  to  suit : 

"  Ebenin',  Misser  Taggart ;  I  hain'  seed  yer 
fer  er  long  time.  How's  all  de  folks  up  ter 
Lexin'ton  ?  I's  raised  up  at  Lexin'ton,  an* 
I  knows  put'  near  eberbody  up  dar." 

Another  bill  rewarded  Mitch's  duplicity,  for 
a    Kentuckian    considers   it    noblesse  oblige  to 
make  a  substantial   donation  to   every   negro 
who  was  "  raised  in  his  country." 
228 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

But  Mr.  Taggart  had  passed  on  and  Mitch 
was  entrapping  another  unwary  patriot. 

"  Ebenin',  Misser  Caldwell,  ebenin' ;  eberbody 
well  in  Danville?  I's  raised  in  Danville ;  an'  I 
'member  whut  er  fine  farm  you  got,  jes  es  well 
ef  I'd  seed  hit  yistiddy." 

Mitch  chuckled,  as  he  received  the  return  for 
that  judicious  compliment. 

"  Ebenin,  Misser  Hundley,  ebenin' ;  I  is  glad 
ter  see  yer  onct  more  shore.  Hit  allers  makes 
me  feel  good  ter  se  anybody  fum  my  ole 
home  ;  I's  raised  in  sight  er  yo'  place,  jes' 
erbout  six  mile  fum  Springfiel' ;  mighty  putty 
place  too,  Mr.  Hundley." 

But  portly  Mr.  Hundley  was  too  old  a  bird 
to  be  caught  with  chaff,  and  stalked  off  with 
only  a  grunt  in  response. 

"  Stingy  ole  debbil,"  Mitch  muttered. 

I  laughed  aloud,  and  left  my  watch,  but  I 
daresay  that  Mitch  worked  the  "  raised  in  yo' 
country  "  racket  on  each  guest  who  chanced 
to  have  his  home  outside  Warren  County,  and 
was  a  richer  man  for  his  wisdom. 

Supper  was  delicious  ;  cold  baked  ham,  in 
broad  red  slices,  of  almost  transparent  thinness; 
light  rolls,  with  golden  butter ;  dainty  corn 
229 


Juletty 

cakes,  chicken  salad,  and  lettuce  and  onions, 
creamy  sweet  milk,  and  thick,  rich  buttermilk, 
with  floating,  tiny  grains  of  butter,  which  was — 
well  iced — a  drink  for  a  colonel ;  and  fragrant 
coffee  and  iced  tea. 

It  was  a  merry  party  of  thirteen  farmers. 

There  was  no  haste  to  be  through  that  meal ; 
even  the  charms  of  the  chase  were  forgotten, 
and  time  slipped  past  unnoted. 

Over  the  last  course  we  lingered  longest. 

A  large  bowl  of  crushed  ice  was  placed  before 
our  host ;  at  his  left,  a  silver  tray  of  glasses, 
with  spoons  in  them,  a  pitcher  of  water,  and  a 
silver  bowl  of  sugar.  To  his  right,  a  huge  de- 
canter of  whiskey  and  a  bowl  of  mint. 

Like  a  poet  and  an  artist,  he  dropped  the 
white  cubes  and  poured  the  water,  stirred 
gently  a  moment,  and  added  the  red  liquor 
and  odorous  mint.  Black  cake  was  the  pre- 
text for  the  drink,  and,  lounging  in  our  chairs, 
we  spent  the  time  in  jest  and  story,  some  of 
which  I  remember  to  this  day. 

The  majority  of  the  older  men  had  been 
classmates  at  Centre,  and,  as  usual  at  their 
meetings,  recalled  college  pranks. 

Mr.  Caldwell  began  : 

230 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

"  Charles,  do  you  remember  Bob's  mule 
ride?" 

Uncle  Charles  rubbed  his  hair  to  more  than 
its  accustomed  gloss  in  a  vain  effort  to  recall 
that  particular  prank  before  replying,  "  I  don't 
believe  I  do  ;  what  about  it  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Caldwell,  "if  you  don't 
remember  it  you  didn't  see  it,  for  you  couldn't 
forget  it  if  you  had  seen  it. 

"A  favorite  amusement  with  the  college 
boys  on  county  court  day  was  to  ride  the  coun- 
try horses  that  were  sure  to  be  hitched  at 
various  posts  to  await  the  home-going  of  the 
owners.  Bob  was  usually  on  hand  to  have  one 
of  the  first  choices,  but  one  day  found  himself 
late ;  every  horse  had  been  appropriated  and 
nothing  was  left  but  a  sleek,  well-fed  mule. 

"  But  Bob  wasn't  going  to  be  cheated  out  of 
a  ride  by  any  mule  that  ever  breathed,  so  he 
took  a  stage  attitude  and  exclaimed  :  '  For  lo ! 
these  many  moons  have  I  yearned  for  the  ex- 
hilaration of  muleback  exercise,  and  now  is  the 
winter  of  my  discontent  made  glorious  summer 
by  this  glossy  son  of  a  donkey.' 

"  Then  he  took  off  his  hat  and  pranced  up 
to  the  mule,  and  bowed,  and  begged  him  to  be 
231 


Juletty 

patient,  and  kept  up  a  lot  of  fool  talk  till 
finally  he  got  into  the  saddle,  and  then  im- 
plored him  '  not  to  fling  up  his  heels  and  fling 
off  his  load.' 

"  The  rest  of  us  were  in  roars  of  laughter, 
and  knew  no  mule  could  'fling'  Bob  if  he  were 
once  securely  mounted. 

"  When  this  was  accomplished  we  all  started, 
with  Bob  in  the  lead.  I  know  you  remember 
Lexington  Avenue,  where  the  female  institute 
was  located,  that  sheltered  more  pretty  girls 
than  any  building  in  America ;  well,  just  in 
front  of  that  institute  Bob  must  stoop  over 
to  fix  his  stirrups  and  attract  attention.  Right 
then  a  little  zephyr  that's  playing  along  with 
nothing  else  to  do  got  in  its  mischief;  it  just 
picked  off  Bob's  hat  and  shied  it  right  square 
across  the  mule's  nose. 

"You  can  bet  there  was  a  jump  and  a 
plunge,  and  then  Bob  and  the  mule  went 
careering  down  Lexington  Avenue  like  a  streak 
of  greased  lightning.  Bob  certainly  knew  how 
to  ride,  but  it  put  him  up  to  all  he  knew,  and 
a  death  grip  on  the  stiff  little  mane  of  the 
hybrid,  too,  to  keep  his  seat. 

"  Every  girl  at  Caldwell  Institute  was  enjoy- 
232 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

ing  high  noon  in  the  front  yard  when  that 
reckless  pair  went  clattering  by. 

"  Bob  was  a  sight ;  his  face  was  red  as  a 
gobbler's  snout  in  May ;  he  always  wore  his 
hair  long,  and  it  flew  on  the  breeze ;  the  rascal 
never  had  on  but  one  pair  of  trousers  at  a 
time,  and  those  were  pushed  by  his  saddle 
flaps  nearly  to  his  knees,  and  of  course  there 
shone  his  big  bare  calves. 

"  The  mule  got  worse  scared  at  every  jump 
he  made,  and  turned  his  head  from  side  to  side 
(as  nothing  but  a  mule  and  a  gander  can),  and 
kept  up  a  braying  to  beat  the  band. 

"When  they  reached  the  end  of  the  long 
street  Bob  spied  a  negro,  and  he  gasped  out — 
you  know  Bob  never  forgot  to  be  funny — 
'  Head  us,  uncle,  for  God's  sake,  head  us!' 

"  '  Deed  I  will,  Marse  Bob,'  the  old  nigger 
yelled. 

"  Like  a  fool  he  rushed  out  into  the  middle  of 
the  street,  throwing  up  his  hat  and  hollering  to 
him  to  '  Wo  !  Wo  dar ! ' 

"  Well,  he  woed. 

"  But  he  wheeled  around  in  such  short  order 
that  Bob  came  near  tumbling  off  (and  I  reckon 
if  ever  a  man  prayed  to  fall,  it  was  Bob,  but 
233 


Juletty 

he  couldn't  let  go\  and  there's  no  world  if  that 
abominable  mule  didn't  run  straight  back  up 
that  street,  past  that  girls'  school,  right  to  his 
hitching  post,  and  stop  as  sudden  as  he  started. 

"That  was  too  much ;  the  mule  stopped,  but 
Bob  went  on  over  his  head  in  the  dust. 

"But  still  in  a  good  humor,  Bob  got  up, 
rubbed  himself,  and  looked  so  comical  that  we 
all  went  into  fresh  roars  of  laughter.  He  said : 

"'That's  what  makes  me  'spise  er  mule.'  " 

As  usual,  one  story  suggested  another,  and 
Mr.  Taggart  asked : 

"  Did  any  of  you  hear  old  Buck  Vermilion 
preach?" 

No  one  had,  and  he  proceeded  to  relate  his 
experience. 

"  Well,  when  it  was  noised  abroad  that  old 
Buck  was  to  preach  in  Danville,  Bob  and  I,  who 
had  heard  how  eccentric  the  old  fellow  was, 
determined  to  hear  him.  He  was  to  hold  forth 
on  Sabbath  afternoon  and  we  were  early  on  the 
scene  of  action. 

"  We  put  a  boy  on  the  gate-post  to  watch  for 
the  first  sight  of  him,  and  he  soon  shouted : 

"'  He's  er  comin  !     He's  er  comin  ! ' 

"  Then  there  was  a  grand  rush  for  the  front. 
234 


t 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

"  I  can  shut  my  eyes  and  see  that  picture  now. 

"  It  was  in  October  and  everything  was  yel- 
low ;  the  maples,  the  dirt  road,  the  sunshine, 
the  old  horse,  and  Buck  himself. 

"  The  horse  was  lean  and  lank,  and  travelled 
in  a  flat-footed  trot  that  would  have  jolted  the 
teeth  out  of  any  other  rider;  in  fact,  all  that 
spared  Buck  that  calamity  was  the  fact  that 
he  had  none  to  shake  out.  His  cow-hide  shoes 
were  yellow  with  dust,  his  homespun  trousers 
were  yellow,  and  in  place  of  a  coat  he  wore  an 
old  red  dressing  gown,  sprinkled  with  yellow 
palm  leaves.  His  head  was  bare  as  a  billiard 
ball,  but  his  congregations  had  laughed  so  often 
at  that,  he  wore  a  wig  of  dust-colored  curls, 
held  in  place  by  a  ribbon  which  tied  piquantly 
under  his  chin." 

"  Oh,  hold  on,  whut  cher  givin'  us  ?  "  some 
one  interrupted. 

"  I'm  telling  the  solemn  truth  ;  and  added  to 
all  these  shades  of  yellow,  his  skin  was  the 
color  of  brownish  yellow  parchment,  and  the 
whole  man  was  surmounted  by  a  gray-yellow 
felt  hat. 

"  Of  course  every  eye  followed  him  as,  with  his 
saddle  bags  on  his  shoulder,  he  went  into  the 
235 


Juletty 

pulpit  where  the  elegant  and  eloquent  Doctor 
William  Breckenridge  had  entertained  a  con- 
gregation for  two  hours  the  Sunday  before. 

"  He  dived  into  the  saddle  bags  and  brought 
out  an  old  worn  hymn-book,  and  opened  his 
tobacco-stained,  toothless  mouth  to  announce 
a  hymn,  when  he  suddenly  remembered  some- 
thing that  scared  him ;  his  jaw  dropped,  and 
his  eyes  stuck  out  a  minute,  but  his  faith  came 
to  the  rescue,  and  he  lifted  his  right  hand  for 
silence,  and  prayed  as  devoutly  as  any  preacher 
you  ever  heard  at  a  funeral : 

"  '  Lawd  !  feed  my  hongry  hawgs,  fer  I  fergot 
hit.' 

"  Every  one  laughed  aloud  ;  but  that  did  not 
abash  the  preacher ;  he  waited  for  quiet,  and 
then  read  his  hymn  and  turned  to  Mr.  Mc- 
Dowell, who  sat  on  the  front  seat,  and  asked : 

" '  Brother  Me,  will  yer  gin  this  hyar  chune 
er  histe  ? ' 

"  Mr.  McDowell  shook  his  head,  and  Buck 
said: 

" '  Wall,  I  hain't  much  on  the  sing,  but  I 
reckin  I'll  haveter  histe  'er  myse'f.' 

"  And  he  did  ;  but  he  had  to  sing  it  all  alone, 
for  no  human  could  have  followed  that  tune. 
236 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

"  He  preached  about  the  journey  through  the 
Wilderness,  and  I  wish  I  could  remember  some 
of  the  sermon,  but  I  only  recall  a  few  remarks. 
I  specially  remember  this — and  he  said  it 
through  his  nose,  whining  and  catching  his 
breath  audibly  after  each  sentence:  'And 
Aaron  made  a  ca'f,  brethern  and  sisteren,  er 
gole  ca'f,  an'  he  made  it  outen  year-rings.  I 
do  nacherelly  suppose  he  was  the  putties'  cree- 
ter  uv  his  specie  ever  seen  'pon  top  of  yeth. 
Ef  thet  ca'f  had  er  ben  at  ther  late  Boyle 
County  fa'r,  hit  would  er  took  ever  blue  string 
than1 

"  I  remember,  too,  his  benediction,  and  it 
would  have  seemed  blasphemous  from  any 
other  lips,  but  Buck  was  seriously  earnest ;  he 
looked  impressive  and  prayed  : 

"'An'  now,  Lawd  Gawd,  as  we-all  go  fum 
henst,  we  pray  Thee  fer  ter  presarve  us,  an' 
pickle  us,  an'  put  us  in  a  glass  jar,  an'  put  the 
jar  in  Thine  own  leetle  privit  clawset,  Lawd, 
erway  back  on  ther  top  shelf,  an'  lock  ther 
dore,  an'  put  ther  key  down  deep  in  Thy 
breeches  pocket,  whar  ther  devil  cain't  fin'  hit. 
AMEN.'  " 

When  the  laughter  that  followed  this  anec- 
237 


Juletty 

dote  had  subsided,  Uncle  Charles  led  the  way 
to  where  our  horses  waited  to  bear  us  to  the 
hunt.  We  pulled  our  soft  hats  well  down  over 
our  ears,  and  I  stood  aside  to  watch  the  others 
mount ;  as  they  did  so  I  realized  that  rarely, 
if  ever,  had  I  seen  so  many  fine  horses.  Each 
man  there  bestrode  an  aristocrat  among  Ken- 
tucky saddlers.  No  "  parking,"  no  dinner- 
jolting  trotters  among  them ;  a  Pennyrile 
Kentuckian  would  rather  chop  wood  for  diges- 
tion than  to  be  caught  going  such  gaits ;  each 
could  "  running-walk  "  at  a  motion  like  the  soft 
smoothness  of  a  rocking-chair,  or  "  rack "  to 
keep  up  with  a  runner,  and  never  jar  the  tips 
of  a  boy's  first  silken  mustache. 

When  I  sprang  to  my  saddle  I  found 
Henry's  gray  as  good  as  the  best;  it  was 
rejuvenating,  exhilarating  beyond  compare  to 
feel  his  elastic  step  beneath  me,  for  he  touched 
the  earth  lightly,  as  if  he  feared  soiling  his 
dainty  feet. 

And  when  he  heard  the  cry  of  the  loosed 
dogs,  he  tossed  his  pretty  head,  pricked  for- 
ward his  delicate  ears,  and,  with  distended 
nostrils  quivering,  was  as  ready  for  the  joys  of 
the  chase  as  any  man  in  the  lot. 
238 


In  Which   I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

Too-too-too-toot !     Toot !  " 

That  was  the  mellow  hunting-horn,  as  Mitch 
led  the  hounds  out  the  gate;  they  were  fairly 
dancing;  before,  behind,  beside  him,  they 
pressed  with  sharp  little  whines  and  cries  of 
ecstasy.  It  was  their  delight  as  well  as  ours, 
and  now  and  then  he  had  to  reprove  them  for 
too  great  eagerness,  talking  to  and  soothing 
them  with  caressing  tones,  till  they  settled  to 
a  steady  trot  after  his  horse. 

It  was  a  perfect  night. 

The  great  round  moon  was  laughing  at  our 
party  of  grown-up  children  out  for  a  frolic ; 
and  as  she  laughed  she  pelted  us  with  silvery 
beams  that  filled  our  hearts  with  gladness  and 
good  cheer.  There  was,  as  is  usual  with  fox 
hunters,  little  talking  after  we  left  the  main 
road  ;  there  was  too  much  interest  for  that,  and 
when  we  gathered  at  the  appointed  place  we 
were  just  as  silent  waiting  for  what  Uncle 
Charles  had  promised  us  would  be  the  grandest 
serenade  of  our  lives. 

Not  a  dog  was  to  be  seen. 

They  had  scattered  in  search  of  a  trail. 

What  an  uncanny  picture  we  made  in   the 
shadow  of  the  great  forest  trees ! 
239 


Juletty 

Thirteen  was  our  unlucky  number. 

Thirteen  mounted  men,  with  slouch  hats 
pulled  down  as  if  for  disguise,  bent  forward 
listening  in  the  moonlight. 

Listening ! 

That  was  all.  Straining  every  nerve  and 
bating  our  very  breath  in  the  intensity  of 
listening. 

At  length  our  patience  was  rewarded. 

-Yelp!    Yelp!    Yelp!" 

We  looked  at  Uncle  Charles  forinterpretation. 

"  Humph,"  he  said,  "  that  is  old  Bailie  ;  big- 
gest liar  you  ever  saw  ;  the  trail  may  be  three 
days'  old." 

Patience  again. 

Then,  clear  and  sweet  as  a  well-blown  bugle : 

"  Yeow  !  Yeow,  yeow,  yeow,"  sounded  a 
tenor  across  a  distant  knob. 

Truly,  a  fox  hunter  is  a  born  musician,  else 
how  could  he  revel  so  in  the  cry  of  his  dogs  ? 

Uncle  Charles  lifted  his  hand  warningly  and 
whispered  "  Sh-sh-sh,"  and  I  regarded  with  awe- 
ful  admiration  the  accuracy  of  his  ear. 

"  Ye-ow,  ye-ow,  ye-ow  !  " 

In  a  carefully  guarded  undertone  he  informed 
the  other  listeners : 

240 


in  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

"  That's  Lassie  !  Always  in  the  lead.  She 
never  fooled  me." 

The  tenor  was  followed  by  a  thunderous  bass. 

"  Wow,    wow,    wow  !  Wow-wow-wow  ! 

WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW  !  " 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Uncle  Charles 
gave  the  name  : 

"  Come  on,  Byron  !     Come  on,  old  boy  !  " 

In  rapid  succession  were  added  many  tenors, 
basses,  and  sopranos,  and  as  each  reached  our 
ears  that  remarkable  man  named  them  after 
this  fashion  ; 

"  Go  it,  Dixie  ;  you'll  get  there  !  Come  along, 
Banks  ;  don't  be  afraid,  old  boy !  That's  it,  my 
Chimes — best  tongue  among  'em !  Steady, 
Nightingale,  steady  little  geerl ;  don't  fly  the 
track.  Hold  on,  Rock,  hold  on  !  " 

He  kept  that  up  through  at  least  twenty  dif- 
ferent notes  ;  it  was  like  a  miracle  to  me. 

Round  and  round  the  hill  circled  the  fox, 
followed  by  the  baying  hounds  It  was  such 
music  as  these  ears  have  seldom  heard. 

Life  !    Motion!    Rhythm  ! 

The  very  poetry  of  music  rose  and  fell,  and 
swelled  and  died,  and  rose  again  on  the  crisp 
night  air. 

16  241 


Juletty 

No  prima  donna  neath  electric  glare  can 
ever  thrill  my  soul  again  while  memory  holds 
that  scene. 

The  tender  moonlight  on  the  diamond  dew 
that  gemmed  the  grass,  the  trees,  the  very  rails, 
in  Nature's  lavishness  of  touch ;  the  music — 
living  music,  natural  music — which  gushed 
from  the  untrained,  unstrained  throats  of 
twenty  flying  hounds.  Suddenly  it  ceased. 

Then  came  a  yelp,  half  whine ;  no  music  in 
that. 

"  Lost  trail,"  muttered  my  uncle,  and  lifted 
his  reins.  The  horse  obeyed  the  sign  and  sped 
away  toward  the  sound  ;  we  followed.  On  to 
the  edge  of  the  creek,  at  the  point  whence 
the  railway  bridge  was  suspended. 

There  we  found  the  entire  pack  in  con- 
fusion. 

Savage  yelps,  piteous  whines  of  disappoint- 
ment greeted  us,  as  they  darted  in  and  out  of 
the  water,  snapping  now  and  then  one  mouth- 
ful, but  too  impatient  to  drink. 

"  Where  is  he,  Lass  ?  Find  him,  old  lady, 
find  him ! "  Uncle  Charles  said,  caressingly,  to 
his  favorite. 

She  whined,  wagged  her  tail,  ran  across  the 
242 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

stream,  hunted  wildly  here  and  there,  and  then 
ran  back  to  her  master. 

It  was  inexplicable. 

The  moonlight  was  clear  as  day,  and  we 
could  see  everything  about  us,  but  the  only 
living  thing  we  had  run  upon  was  a  loose- 
jointed,  shirt-sleeved  giant  leaning  against  the 
rail  fence  that  surrounded  his  garden. 

Riding  up  to  this  individual,  Uncle  Charles 
said  affably :  ' 

"Hello,  John!  How  long  you  been  stand- 
ing there?" 

"  Aw  er  hour  er  sech  er  matter,"  he  drawled 
indifferently. 

"  The  thunder  you  have ;  then  why  don't 
you  tell  us  what  became  of  that  fox?" 

"  Cause  yer  never  axed  me,"  said  John. 

But  he  had  seen  too  much  of  that  which 
his  soul  loved  to  continue  silent  about  it,  and 
quickly  warmed  to  the  subject. 

"  I  be  goldarned  if  thet  leetle  creeter  didn't 
do  ther  sharpest  thing  ever  I  seen  er  animal 
do.  I  'uz  in  baid ;  but  when  I  heered  ther 
dawgs  I  got  up  an'  slipt  on  my  britches,  an' 
crope  outen  ther  house  ter  lissen.  I  wuz  jes' 
er  leanin'  hyar,  er  lookin*  up  ther  railroad, 
243 


Juletty 

when  he  shot  into  sight  like  er  streek  uv  red 
lightnin',  an'  come  er  steppin'  down  ther  rails. 
I  wondered  what  he'd  do  when  he  gotter  ther 
bridge  ;  an',  sah,  he  jes  kep'  on  like  'twarn't 
no  bridge,  er  jumpin'  fum  tie  ter  tie  like  fun. 
Well,  when  he  gotter  them  braces  vvhut  yer 
see  er  holdin'  up  ther  posts  uv  ther  bridge,  he 
jes  hopt  down  whar  er  brace  jines  er  post — 
blamed  ef  he  didn't — and  he  scrooched  up  in 
thet  angle  like  he  were  er  angle  hisse'f,  an'  sot 
thar  an'  hugged  hisse'f  an*  laughed  at  them 
dawgs  till  they  all  got  ercrosst  ther  craik. 
Then  whut  does  ther  leetle  cuss  do  but  jump 
on  ther  bridge  ergin  an'  track  hisse'f  back  ter 
ther  knobs." 

The  man  closed  his  story  with  a  loud  laugh, 
in  which  we  joined.  But  the  laugh  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  triumphant  bay  from  old  Rock, 
the  best  hunter  of  the  pack. 

He  had  fidgeted  around  the  bridge  till  his 
keen  scent  found  the  fresh  trail,  and  once 
more  in  full  cry  they  were  after  Reynard  like 
the  wind. 

Away,  away,  madly,  furiously  they  dashed. 

And  away,  away,  we  followed. 

After  ten  minutes  of  hard  running  the  cry 
244 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

once  more  changed.  The  experienced  hunters 
of  that  party  knew  its  meaning.  "They've 
caught  him  !  they've  caught  him !  "  they  cried. 

And  when  I  rode  up  to  them  Mr.  Taggart 
was  standing  close  to  the  ruins  of  Al  Lincque's 
cabin  with  the  brush  in  his  hand. 

He  triumphed  over  us  for  a  time;  but  the 
night  was  fine,  and  more  than  one  Sir  Fox  was 
tempted  to  pit  his  speed  against  that  of  the 
dogs,  and  give  the  rest  of  us  a  chance  at  the 
brush.  It  was  but  a  little  while  till  Lassie 
gave  tongue  again,  and  away  like  the  wind 
went  men  and  pack  to  answer  her  cry. 

I,  however,  remained  behind  unnoticed.  The 
ruins  of  that  little  cabin  home  had  brought 
back  to  me  so  vividly  the  night  of  terror  I 
spent  there  that  I  lost  all  heart  for  sport. 
Having  caught  my  horse's  bridle  to  the  top- 
pling rail  of  the  worm  fence,  I  seated  myself 
on  the  base  of  the  ruined  chimney.  The  low 
murmur  of  the  creek  as  its  waters  dashed  over 
the  stones  was  pleasant  to  my  ears,  and  where 
the  stream  made  an  abrupt  horseshoe  bend  I 
could  see  the  steep  bank  clad  in  a  coat  of 
green.  The  vine  which  clambered  there  was 
graceful  and  fairly  covered  every  inch  of  the 
245 


Juletty 

red  clay  bank.  It  was  an  object  of  admira- 
tion to  the  neighborhood,  but  of  dread  as 
well,  for  it  was  poison  ivy,  and  any  near  ap- 
proach to  it  was  exceedingly  dangerous.  The 
very  water  about  its  base  and  for  some  dis- 
tance below  was  unsafe  for  bathers,  so  power- 
ful was  the  poison  it  exhaled. 

I  was  in  a  contemplative  mood  and  fell 
to  wondering  how  many  of  nature's  beauties 
might  hide  a  heart  as  foul  under  a  surface  as 
fair  as  that  of  the  vine,  when  my  meditations 
were  interrupted  by  the  voices  of  the  hounds 
again  in  full  cry.  I  turned  with  bent  head  to 
listen,  and  as  I  did  so  there  flashed  from  the 
woodland  into  the  cleared  space  a  small,  slen- 
der figure  that  darted  past  me  on  to  the  bank 
of  the  creek.  It  paused  like  a  wee  black 
shadow  there  above  the  poison  ivy,  and  then 
as  the  dogs  drew  nearer  slipped  down  and 
disappeared  behind  the  heavy  curtain. 

The  hounds,  however,  were  on  another  trail, 
and  I  smiled  to  think  that  the  little  chap's 
cunning  had  been  useless. 

Then  I  was  fired  by  an  ambition  to  have  his 
brush  for  Juliet,  and  also  to  mystify  my  party 
as  to  how  I  had  obtained  it. 
246 


In  Which  I  Turn  Fox  Hunter 

With  that  object  in  view  I  settled  my  re- 
volver handily  in  my  pocket  and  strolled  over 
to  the  ivy  bank. 

I  had  no  fear  of  the  vine,  for  I  am  one  of 
the  fortunate  few  who  are  immune  to  its 
insidious  attacks.  With  this  knowledge  I 
unhesitatingly  grasped  the  huge  trunk  in  one 
hand  and  slid  down  the  almost  perpendicular 
steep. 

I  slipped  to  within  a  foot  or  less  of  the 
water  before  I  could  find  a  secure  footing. 
There  I  caught  a  great  mass  of  vine  and 
peered  behind  it  for  my  game. 

Like  some  curtain-draped  door,  a  large  part 
of  it  swayed  aside  and  I  could  see  an  opening 
quite  deep  enough  for  me  to  enter  in  an  erect 
posture. 

I  knew  immediately  that  I  had  chanced  on 
an  unknown  cave,  and  supposing  the  fox  had  a 
den  within  and  had  gone  to  it  for  safety,  I 
entered. 

It  was  dark  as  a  stack  of  black  cats,  and  as 
I  groped  along  I  kept  one  hand  gliding  over 
the  wall,  while  the  other  held  my  revolver, 
cocked  for  instant  use,  should  occasion  arise. 


247 


CHAPTER  XIII 

In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 


CHAPTER    XIII 

IN  WHICH   THE   GAME   IS  TAKEN   RED-HANDED 

I  HAD  travelled  but  a  short  distance  in  the 
darkness  of  the  new  cavern  when  a  faint,  famil- 
iar odor  assailed  my  nostrils. 

I  stopped  and  sniffed  the  air  like  a  hound  on 
a  cold  trail. 

It  was  there — pleasant,  pungent,  unmistak- 
able. 

The  smell  of  whiskey. 

Chance  had  done  for  me  what  perseverance 
and  determination  had  failed  to  accomplish ;  I 
had  no  doubt  but  that  I  had  by  chance  stumbled 
on  my  game.  I  must  walk  circumspectly,  be- 
cause alone.  Should  I  find  the  guilty  parties 
at  their  illicit  work,  and  should  I  in  turn  be 
discovered  by  them,  there  would  necessarily  be 
a  battle  ;  experience  had  taught  me  that  would 
be  a  most  one-sided  affair,  so  as  I  crept  along 
I  sincerely  hoped  to  find  the  cave  unoccupied, 
and  thus  have  a  better  showing  to  inspect  the 
251 


Juletty 

secrets  it  had  kept  so  well.  Regretfully  re- 
membering that  I  had  on  the  preceding  day 
telegraphed  my  resignation  of  a  marshal's 
commission  to  Washington,  I  moved  on  slowly, 
feeling  the  way  by  sliding  my  foot  over  the 
ground  lightly  before  resting  it  for  a  firm  step. 
I  had  taken  perhaps  about  twenty  steps  when 
I  encountered  an  obstacle  to  further  progress. 
Thinking  it  in  all  likelihood  a  stone,  I  endeav- 
ored to  step  over  the  obstruction,  but  was 
unable  to  do  so.  Then,  before  passing  around, 
I  concluded  to  examine  it,  as  it  might  prove  a 
key  to  the  mystery  ahead  of  me  in  the  dark- 
ness. I  feared  to  strike  a  match  lest  I  rouse 
the  possible  enemy  further  on,  so  simply  passed 
my  hands  over  and  about  it.  Without  diffi- 
culty I  knew  it  was  a  barrel,  and  as  I 
could  not  move  it,  concluded  it  must  be  full ; 
the  odor  it  exhaled  proved  its  contents — 
whiskey. 

I  almost  shouted  aloud  in  my  pleasure  of 
discovery. 

At  last  I  would  triumph  over  grandfather's 

theory  that  I  was  sure  to  fail,  for  there  was 

the  illicit  still— at  least,  in  smelling  distance. 

What    matter   if    I    were   no   longer   a    legal 

252 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

hunter?     My  success  would  be  as  sweet  for  its 
own  sake. 

Continuing  to  listen  carefully  for  signs  of 
occupancy,  I  continued  my  way  farther  and 
farther  into  the  cave. 

The  distance  may  have  seemed  excessive 
(which  would  have  been  perfectly  natural  alone 
in  the  dark  and  on  strange  ground),  but  I 
judge  I  had  walked  a  couple  of  miles  at  the 
very  least  before  I  heard  the  sound  of  voices. 
Then  I  crept  on  even  more  cautiously,  nor  did 
I  hesitate  again  till  the  words  of  the  speakers 
became  perfectly  audible,  though  their  figures 
were  still  hidden  by  the  walls  that  there  made 
a  sudden  turn,  and  behind  which  they  were  at 
work.  Not  a  dozen  words  had  been  spoken 
after  I  gained  position  to  hear  them  before  I 
recognized  the  voices,  and  it  was  like  a  wound 
to  me  when  I  did  so. 

There  were  three  persons  present,  I  discov- 
ered in  my  patient  waiting :  the  first  speaker 
whose  voice  betrayed  him  was  Jim  Lincque, 
at  which  I  was  not  at  all  surprised  after  the 
night  in  Al's  cabin ;  besides  which,  I  felt  sure 
that  little  Jim  would  be  equal  to  anything  in 
the  line  of  law-breaking. 
253 


Juletty 

That  his  grandfather,  the  sanctimonious  old 
moralist,  should  be  capable  of  thrusting  the  boy 
into  the  way  of  evil  doing  was  the  only  surpris- 
ing point  in  his  connection  with  the  distillery. 

The  second  voice,  however,  was  a  startling 
revelation,  for  I  had  certainly  deemed  the 
speaker  above  such  duplicity  ;  it  was  beyond 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt  the  stentor  tone  of  my 
temperance  friend — Mitch.  How  the  negro 
had  played  on  my  credulity  !  But  I  was  more 
amused  than  indignant  at  his  deception,  and 
laughed  to  myself  as  I  wondered  how  "  ole 
Marster's  dawgs"  would  manage  to  finish  the 
night's  hunt  without  his  management.  The 
third  voice  I  knew  to  be  that  of  a  negro,  by 
the  mellow,  yet  blunt,  utterance,  but  it  was  a 
strange  one. 

Mitch,  with  his  usual  evidence  of  leadership, 
seemed  to  be  in  command.  "  Jeems,"  he  said, 
and  his  voice  was  full  of  importance  and  good 
comradeship — "  well,  Jeems,  we'll  git  'er  down 
ter  ther  craik,  an'  git  er  off ;  an'  then  'ats  ther 
last  of  ther  bizness,  fer  ther  boss  says  now  we 
gotter  quit  'stillin'.  I  'on'  see  whut  they-all 
come  ter  that  insision  fer  'nother,  kas  hit  do 
seem  to  me  'at  we  all  is  shore  of  makin'  money 
254 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

han'  over  fis'.  But  still  hit  is  pow'ful  pesky 
ter  be  allus  er  sneakin'  roun'  fer  fear  some- 
body '11  foller  yer  whar  yer  don'  want  'm  ter ; 
'pears  ter  me  I  ain'  done  nothin'  but  sneak 
roun'  lack  er  skeered  rat  fer  las'  two  er  three 
years.  An'  I  ain'  never  felt  right  perzackly 
sartin  but  whut  Al  come  ter  'is  death  er  tryin' 
ter  stan*  Marse  Jack  off  that  night  uv  ther 
storm.  Gawd  !  'at  wuz  er  turble  spot  ter  wuk  ; 
'twuz,  mon." 

Mitch  paused  in  his  running  fire  of  talk,  as  if 
overwhelmed  by  the  conviction,  but  he  could 
not  keep  silent,  and  in  a  few  minutes  began 
again  with  more  assurance : 

"  Lemme  tell  yer  some'in  !  Marse  Jack  ain' 
er  goin'  ter  nose  roun'  hyar  ferever  'dout 
findin  out  some'in  ;  'tain't  in  the  blood ;  ole 
Marser's  granchile  done  foun'  hit  out  long  ergo, 
cepen  he  is  so  in  love  wid  Miss  Juletty  he 
cain't  see  more  'ner  inch  fum  his  nose.  I  heerd 
jer  granpaw  say  no  longer'n  yistiddy,  'at  Miss 
Juletty  ought  ter  be  settlin'  down  ennyhow, 
stid  er  runnin'  half  de  men  in  dis  county  crazy 
er  foller'n'  'er.  He  lowed  ef  Miss  Juletty  'd 
settle  down,  maybe  yer  granmaw'd  speak  ter 
him  ergin." 

255 


Juletty 

At  this  careless  reference  to  the  strained  re- 
lations of  the  old  people,  the  party  laughed 
merrily ;  and  there  was  silence  for  a  time, 
though  I  could  hear  the  heavy  breathing  and 
motions,  as  of  men  who  labored ;  then  Mitch 
spoke :  "  Take  holt,  Jerry,"  he  said  to  the 
other  negro,  "  an'  less  git  erhaid ;  thar  hain' 
no  use  uv  us-all  er  stayin'  hyar  half  de  night. 
Hit'll  be  late  enuff  fo'  yer  git  teryer  fust  hidin' 
place  ennyhow. 

"  Jeems,  is  yer  shore  that  ar  boat's  ready  ?" 

"  Yes,  I'm  shore,"  said  the  boy  ;  "  yer  ken 
jes  betcher  life  I  always  do  my  part,  and  don't 
do  no  speshial  talkin'  bout  it  nother,"  and 
Jerry  and  Jim  had  the  laugh  on  Mitch,  who 
needs  must  continually  express  his  feelings. 
Their  reference  to  outside  preparations  had  re- 
called to  my  mind  something  that  had  com- 
pletely passed  from  it — in  fact,  had  been  but 
carelessly  noted  at  the  time. 

I  had  seen,  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave,  where 
it  had  been  securely  hidden  from  the  view  of 
the  outsider  by  the  curtain  of  poison  ivy,  a 
large  flat  boat.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  kind  of  raft, 
such  as  were  used  at  that  time  by  dealers  in 
small  Kentucky  towns  for  shipping  their  prod- 
256 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

uce,  especially  tobacco,  to  the  Louisville  mar- 
ket. As  they  continued  to  talk  and  lay  their 
plans  for  the  disposal  of  their  illegal  goods  I 
drew  nearer  to  them,  and  finally  found  myself 
sufficiently  close  to  see  the  trio.  They  stood 
close  to  a  recess  in  the  wall  that  answered  well 
the  purpose  of  a  large  roomy  closet,  and  as  I 
looked,  Jerry  advanced  to  this  embrasure  and 
stepped  up  into  it,  the  floor  of  the  closet  seem- 
ing to  be  a  foot  or  so  higher  than  the  floor  of 
the  corridor  into  which  it  opened.  He  turned 
to  one  of  several  barrels  that  had  been  stored 
there,  and  tilting  it  to  its  side,  rolled  it  to  the 
edge  of  the  closet,  and,  with  Jim's  assistance, 
dropped  it  lightly,  spite  of  its  heavy  weight,  to 
the  main  floor.  Mitch  then  rolled  the  barrel 
aside,  while  Jerry  and  Jim  deposited  another 
and  another  in  the  corridor,  then  emerged  from 
the  closet,  straightened  the  barrels  with  their 
sides  toward  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  Jim 
gave  the  word  to  start. 

In  another  minute  each  of  the  three  men 
was  rolling  toward  my  hiding  place  a  barrel  of 
what  I  knew  to  be  illicit  liquor ;  I  had  been  so 
recently  an  officer  of  the  law  that  the  knowl- 
edge roused  my  indignation.  The  office  I  had 
17  257 


Juletty 

held  was  created  for  the  sole  purpose  of  pre- 
venting what  those  men  were  doing  there  in 
reach  of  my  very  hands. 

What  was  I  to  do  ? 

I  certainly  had  given  up  my  commission,  but 
was  it  not  a  plain  duty  to  arrest  them  and 
surrender  them  to  justice  any  way?  On  the 
other  hand,  could  I  so  grieve  my  love?  Could 
I  make  public  her  father's  guilt  ?  I  knew  it 
would  be  worse  than  folly  to  endeavor  to  com- 
bat the  three  alone,  knowing  men  in  such  busi- 
ness were  almost  sure  to  be  heavily  armed. 

Not  being  prepared  to  act  at  the  moment 
they  reached  me,  I  pressed  closely  into  the 
niche  where  the  light  of  their  candles — worn 
after  the  fashion  of  miners,  in  their  caps — would 
not  betray  my  presence,  and  half  wished  myself 
back  with  the  jolly  fox  hunters. 

I  stood  in  my  niche  and  watched  them  go 
past,  then  stepped  out  and  followed  them  softly. 

Once,  in  the  long  walk,  Jim  paused  to  rest. 

"  Oh,  how  I  do  miss  Al,"  he  complained  fret- 
fully ;  "  he  could  er  got  more  uv  these  barrels 
off  in  er  night  'an  all  three  uv  us  kin  in  er 
week." 

Oh,  I  thought,  it   was  handling  barrels  of 

258 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

illicit  whiskey  that  developed  Al's  wonderful 
muscle;  it  is  small  wonder  that  he  was  sensitive 
over  being  questioned  about  the  matter  of  his 
methods. 

I  remembered  a  high  step  at  the  mouth  of 
the  cave,  and  hoped  that  the  men,  in  dropping 
their  burdens  down  this  step  to  the  level,  would 
burst  one  or  more. 

But  luck  like  that  would  have  been  too  good, 
so  they  dropped  them  easily  enough ;  but  they 
found  more  difficulty  in  loading  them  onto  the 
boat.  No  matter  how  careful  they  might  be, 
the  boat  would  drift  from  them  and  swing  out 
into  the  current  beyond  their  reach ;  but,  with 
an  oath,  Jerry  waded  out  to  her  stern  and  held 
the  nose  against  the  bank,  while  the  others 
loaded  readily. 

Finally,  after  storing  their  load  safely  in  the 
boat,  they  returned  to  the  cave  for  more.  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  wait  till  the  boat  was 
filled,  and  then  arrest  them  red-handed,  with 
the  liquor  ready  for  market.  Knowing  any  man 
with  or  without  a  marshal's  commission  would 
have  a  right  to  do  this,  I  followed  them  through- 
out the  second  trip.  This  time  they  passed  the 
closet  of  barrels  and  went  on  into  a  large  room 
259 


Juletty 

which  was  eminently  suited  to  their  purposes 
— making  moonshine  whiskey. 

In  the  dim  flickering  light  of  the  candles  I 
could  see  clearly  the  still  they  had  used,  and  it 
was  by  odds  the  largest  I  had  ever  seen.  Tin 
cans,  water  buckets,  gourds,  were  scattered  on 
the  floor  or  hung  about  the  walls ;  one  arm- 
chair with  rockers  showed  that  some  of  the 
operators  had  not  been  unmindful  of  creature 
comforts.  Mitch  walked  to  the  still  and 
smoothed  its  shining  sides  affectionately. 

"  You've  made  many  er  dollar,  but  I  raikon 
I'm  through  'th  you  now.  We've  made  our 
las'  gallin,  the  boss  says;  ef  Al  had  er  lived 
't wouldn't  er  ben  so,  though.  Don'  cher-all 
'member  how  we  uster  come  hyar  armed  tell 
we  foun'  out  how  safte  hit  wuz?  I  spec'  hit's 
ben  fi'  yere  sence  we  had  er  gun  hyar." 

Jim  grunted ;  he  was  too  young  to  enjoy 
reminiscences.  I,  however,  had  gained  a  pointer 
that  pleased  me  immensely :  the  party  was  un- 
armed, and  I  would  not  have  to  hurt  anybody. 
Again  three  barrels  were  rolled  out  and  loaded 
into  the  boat,  and  the  three  men  stood  at  her 
head,  absorbed  in  conversation. 

"  Now,  Jerry,  yer  know  whutcher  gotter  do  ?  " 
260 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

Mitch  asked,  and  then,  tapping  one  palm  with 
a  finger  of  the  other  hand,  he  said  slowly,  as 
one  who  repeats  a  lesson :  "  De  boss  says  'at 
cher  gotter  paddle  down  de  river  uv  nights,  an' 
res'  an*  hide  endurin'  de  day,  De  boss  says 
yer  done  made  dis  trip  wid  Al  so  often  'at 
cher  oughtter  do  it  puffec'.  Yer  knows  de 
man  ter  'liver  to,  an'  whenst  yer  sees  him  in 
de  city  give  'im  dis  note  an'  de'n  strike  er  bee 
line  fer  home.  Does  yer  un'erstan',  nigger?" 

"  Aw,  yaas,  yaas,"  said  Jerry,  in  no  way 
resenting  his  title,  "  I  knows  des  zackly  whut- 
ter  do  ;  I  done  bin  so  often  wid  Al  I  knows  hit 
all  by  heart." 

"  Boss  might  ez  well  lemme  go  along ;  I  doe 
all  work  and  gits  no  play,  and  'tain't  fair," 
grumbled  Jim. 

"  Never  min',  Jimmie  ;  yer  time's  er  comin'," 
said  Mitch  consolingly;  "git  erbode,  now,  an' 
we'll  go  down  ez  fur  ez  the  cornfiel'  wid  Jerry, 
an'  den  we'll  cut  acrost  fer  home,  an'  le'  him 
go  erlong  'bout  'is  bizness." 

Jerry  took  up  his  paddles,  and  the  other 
two  stepped  onto  the  boat,  but  as  Jim  stooped 
to  push  her  off  I  followed  them. 

They  were  too  much  amazed  at  my  ap- 
261 


Juletty 

pearace  to  either  move  or  speak,  but  sat  silent 
and  open-mouthed. 

"  Mitch,"  I  said, "  I  am  surprised  and  ashamed 
to  catch  you  at  this  kind  of  work ;  I  did  not 
think  you  would  be  capable  of  doing  so  wrong 
a  thing.  You  have  known  all  along  that  I  am 
a  Government  officer,  and  so  you  certainly 
know  that  I  cannot  allow  you  to  proceed  with 
the  sale  of  this  illicit  liquor." 

"  No,  sir,  dat's  er  fac',  Marse  Jack  ;  dat's  er 
fac'  sho' ;  ole  Marse's  gran'son  is  pintedly 
gwinter  do  'is  juty,  I  knows.  I  ben  er  sayin' 
all  de  time  dat  ef  uver  yer  did  fin'  us  out  hit 
wuz  Katy  bar  de  do'  wid  us ;  but  law,  Marse 
Jack,  hain't  hit  curus  yer  nuver  fin'  us  out  'long 
ergo?" 

"  That  will  do,  Mitch,"  I  said  with  dignity, 
and  turned  to  the  other  negro. 

"  Jerry,  take  a  plank  out  of  the  floor 
there,  and  knock  in  the  heads  of  all  these 
barrels." 

He  tore  up  the  plank  readily  enough,  but  it 
was  to  turn  and  face  me  threateningly  with  it. 
I  respected  him  the  more  for  that  one  show  of 
fight,  but  the  gleam  of  my  revolver  taught 
them  how  useless  was  resistance,  and  sullenly, 
262 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

one  by  one,  the  barrels  were  beaten  in,  and 
their  contents  emptied  into  the  creek. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  I  shall  be  obliged  to  have 
all  three  of  you  precede  me  into  the  cave  for 
what  may  be  left  there." 

"  I'll  be  damned  ef  I  do,"  growled  Jim. 

"  Don't  be  er  fool,  Jimmie,"  said  Mitch  good- 
naturedly;  "  he's  got  de  drop  on  us,  an'  we-all  '11 
haveter  do  whut  he  says." 

Then  he  added,  half  laughing,  under  his 
breath,  though  I  as  well  as  the  others  caught 
his  words: 

"  But  lemme  tell  yer,  mon,  when  he  done 
foun'  out  who's  de  boss  uv  dis  hyar  job,  dar 
hain'  gwinter  be  no  mo'  trouble,  sho." 

After  entering  the  cave,  Mitch  loitered  till 
he  was  almost  at  my  side,  and  went  on  talking 
in  the  most  interested  fashion,  as  if  the  whole 
matter  were  a  show  and  he  showman. 

"  Dar  hain'  much  in  dar  now,  Marse  Jack  ;  jes 
er  few  barrels  uv  peach  brandy  an'  some  jugs 
er  whiskey.  Wait  er  minnit  hyar,  Marse  Jack; 
I  wanter  show  yer  our  little  trick." 

He  stopped  beside  a  step-ladder  that  almost 
reached  the  ceiling,  and  asked  Jim  to  show  me 
how  the  thing  was  done.  The  boy  ran  lightly 
263 


Juletty 

up  the  steps,  lifted  his  hands  and  pressed  firmly 
against  the  ceiling  ;  it  opened,  and  the  moon- 
light sifted  through. 

"'At's  de  way  we-all  managed  ther  jug  stump, 
Marse  Jack;  Jerry,  he  jes  lived  down  hyar  wid 
his  jugs  all  ready  filled  ;  an'  yer  knows  'bout 
little  Jim,  dar,  settin'  in  his  steddy  up  erbove  ; 
well,  when  Jimmie  seen  er  em'ty  jug  er  settin' 
on  de  stump,  he  jes  give  er  reg'ler  mawkin' 
bird  whissle.  Den,  yer  see,  Jerry  'd  open  dat 
hole,  pull  down  de  jug  an'  de  money,  an'  sot 
up  de  whiskey.  Aw,  hit  wuz  handy — dez  ez 
handy  ez  er  razzor  in  er  nigger  fight.  An' 
'twuz  safer'n  er  mad  dawg  at  Chrismus  time  ; 
kase,  yer  see,  de  holler  in  de  stump  kep'  folks 
fum  er  seein'  more'n  dey  oughter  see." 

It  was  simple  enough,  to  be  sure. 

But  I  hurried  them  to  the  still-room,  and 
gave  them  not  one  moment's  rest  till  still  and 
liquor  were  utterly  destroyed.  Then,  still 
keeping  them  in  front  of  me,  and  my  revolver 
in  my  hand,  I  marched  them  out  into  the  night. 

"  I  cannot  leave  my  horse,"  I  said  when  we 

stood  under  the  moonlight.     "  Mitch,  I  think 

I    can    trust    you    not    to    run    away,    so    I 

want  you  to  go  up  there  and  bring  my  horse 

264 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

here.  He  is  hitched  to  the  rail  fence  by  Al's 
cabin." 

"  Fer  Gawd's  sake,  Marse  Jack,  don't  ax  me 
ter  go  up  dar !  Ax  me  ter  give  myse'f  up  ter 
de  sher'ff,  ax  me  ter  go  lock  my  own  se'f  up  in 
de  jail,  ax  me  anything  'pon  top  uv  dirt,  but 
don't,  Marse  Jack,  fer  Gawd's  sake,  don't  ax  me 
ter  go  up  dar  'mong  dem  hants!" 

"  Why,  Mitch,  you  old  fool !  "  I  said;  but  see- 
ing his  horror  was  so  real  I  turned  and  tried 
Jerry,  with  the  same  results.  Jim  was  equally 
fervent  in  his  terror,  and  it  resulted  in  the 
entire  party  climbing  the  slope  and  going  in  a 
body  for  the  horse.  Not  one  of  them  spoke 
until  we  had  left  the  ruined  home  far  behind, 
and  then  it  was  to  sigh  and  thank  Heaven  for 
an  unlooked-for  deliverance.  I  directed  our 
way  across  fields  straight  for  old  Mr.  Lincque's 
house.  I  was  so  indignant  with  the  sanctimo- 
nious, oily-tongued  lawbreaker  that  I  could 
scarcely  wait  to  reach  him.  I  had  such  a  long- 
ing to  face  him  with  these  three  witnesses  of 
his  guilt,  taken  in  the  very  act  of  carrying  out 
his  instructions,  that  I  rushed  my  prisoners 
breathlessly  along. 

"  Whut  cher  gwinter  do  wid  us-all  ter- 
265 


Juletty 

night,    Marse   Jack?"  asked  the  irrepressible 
Mitch. 

"  I  shall  take  you  right  to  the  '  boss,'  as  you 
say ;  and  I  mean  to  settle  the  whole  matter,  and 
land  you  in  jail  before  I  sleep,"  I  answered  him 
grimly. 

He  looked  at  me  curiously,  and  I  fancied  he 
chuckled.  "  Marse  Jack,  is  yer  right  plum  dead 
shore  yer  knows  jes  zackly  who  de  Boss  is?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  I  said. 

"  Marse  Jack,"  he  persisted,  "  I  betcher  er 
jug  uv  fi'-yer-ole  peach  brandy,  whut  I  done 
made  myse'f,  'at  cher  don'  know  who  'tis. " 

"No  more  of  your  impudence,  Mitch." 

I  could  not  say  whether  I  felt  more  proud  or 
humiliated  that  I  had  so  plainly  shown  my  love 
for  old  Lincque's  charming  daughter  that  even 
the  negro  was  sure  I  would  not  prosecute  her 
father. 

The  moonlight  was  still  brilliantly  clear 
though  it  was  far  towards  morning  when  we 
approached  the  Lincque  home. 

When   we   reached  the  gate  the  door  was 
opened  and  Juliet  appeared  on  the  threshold  ; 
her  hand  was  lifted  to  her  face,  and  as  she 
peered  out  she  called  in  an  agitated  voice : 
266 


In  Which  the  Game  is  Taken  Red-handed 

"Jim,  oh,  Jimmie,  is  that  you?  Have  you 
come  at  last  ?  Father  is  dying,  and  has  wanted 
you  so." 

"  Don't  any  of  you  say  a  word  about  this 
matter,"  I  warned  my  companions ;  "  if  Mr. 
Lincque  is  really  dying  we  can  arrange  it  after- 
ward." 

Then  leaving  them  to  do  as  they  pleased,  I 
rode  to  the  door,  sprang  from  my  horse,  ran 
up  the  steps,  and  asked  an  explanation  of  the 
startling  greeting. 


267 


CHAPTER  XIV 

In  Which  the  Distiller  Receives  a  Life 
Sentence 


CHAPTER    XIV 

IN  WHICH   THE  DISTILLER    RECEIVES    A    LIFE 
SENTENCE 

As  is  usual  in  cases  of  serious  accident,  there 
was  little  to  tell.  A  large  stallion  had  escaped 
from  his  stable  into  a  pasture  of  mares  and 
colts ;  he  had  succeeded  in  throwing  a  young 
filly  to  the  ground  and  was  killing  her  with 
furious  blows  of  his  iron-shod  hoofs.  Mr. 
Lincque  had  rescued  her,  but  in  the  battle 
with  the  horse  had  received  a  kick  in  the 
chest.  The  injury  was  to  the  heart,  and  his  doc- 
tor had  declared  he  could  not  live  longer  than 
twenty-four  hours. 

When  I  entered  the  sick-room  his  wife  was 
bending  over  him  with  tenderest  ministrations, 
all  the  anger  of  the  past  forgotten.  The  old 
man's  face  was  radiant  with  gratification  ;  death 
was  not  to  be  dreaded  when  it  brought  him 
back  her  love. 

By  the  time  I  had  greeted  the  sufferer  and 
271 


Juletty 

expressed  my  sympathy  the  gray  of  the  dawn- 
ing began  to  creep  into  the  room,  and  I  per- 
suaded Juliet  and  her  mother,  both  of  whom 
had  kept  watch  all  the  night,  to  leave  their 
patient  to  me  and  get  a  little  much-needed 
rest. 

After  they  left  us  I  suggested  to  Mr.  Lincque 
that  he  would  do  well  to  follow  their  example 
and  go  to  sleep,  but  he  insisted  he  did  not 
need  it,  and  would  rather  talk. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you?"  I  asked, 
noting  the  wistful  look  in  his  dim  eyes. 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered  wearily,  but  almost 
immediately  went  on  :  "  There  is  too  much  life 
in  this  old  body  of  mine  to  be  snuffed  out  in 
a  minute,  Mr.  Burton  ;  I  may  live  like  this  sev- 
eral days.  I  don't  mind  dying ;  life's  er  tire- 
some thing  at  best,  but  there  is  one  thing  that 
troubles  me  in  going — it's  Juletty.  I  would 
love  ter  see  her  pervided  for  before  I  leave 
her ;  she's  been  a  mighty  good  daughter  to  me. 
Jeems  is  all  right  to  do  his  best  and  take  keer 
of  her,  but  when  I'm  not  here  to  tell  him 
what  to  do,  he's  no  good  to  look  after  such  a 
girl.  My  wife  loves  her  girl,  of  course,  and 
she  would  be  willing  to  die  for  her ;  but  'tain't 
272 


The  Distiller  Receives  a  Life  Sentence 

dying  we  got  to  do  for  people  these  days — it's 
living,  and  that's  harder.  My  wife's  kept  shut 
up  from  the  world  till  she  don't  know  more'n 
a  child  unborn  about  ways  and  things.  Julet- 
ty's  full  of  life  and  frisky  as  a  young  colt,  and 
she  needs  a  firm  hand  on  the  bit,  and  that's 
what  her  mother  will  never  hold." 

He  ceased  speaking,  and  I  waited,  hoping 
he  was  only  resting  and  would  directly  con- 
tinue ;  but  as  he  did  not,  I  finally  ventured  to 
say,  with  an  effort  to  suppress  a  bit  of  the 
great  eagerness  which  was  welling  up  in  me : 
"  Do  you  wish  to  say  that  it  would  be  a  com- 
fort to  you  to  see  Juliet  and  me  married  here 
by  your  bedside  before  you  leave  us?" 

He  looked  up,  nodded,  and  stretched  his 
hand  to  mine.  I  assured  him  nothing  in 
the  world  would  more  fully  meet  with  my 
approval. 

Then,  with  an  almost  childish  pleasure,  he 
talked  of  how  he  would  persuade  Juliet  to  his 
will,  planned  the  marriage  and  our  future, 
babbling  incessantly  until  I  told  him  he  must 
keep  quiet  and  go  to  sleep  or  he  would  be 
unable  to  carry  out  his  wishes. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  will  when  I  have  said 
273 


Juletty 

one  thing  more.  Juliet  is  a  great  writer ; 
you  never  would  have  reckoned  such  a  thing, 
would  you?" 

I  could  only  admit  my  surprise. 

"  Well,  she  is.  She's  so  shy  she  won't 
lemme  tell  it,  but  there  comes  papers  and 
books  from  Louisville  every  now  and  then 
with  pieces  she  wrote  in  'em,  and  she  gets  a 
sight  of  money  for  'em,  too.  I  can't  see  how 
they  afford  to  pay  so  much,  but  Juletty  says 
they  just  roll  in  money — the  men  that  makes 
books  and  papers.  She  didn't  have  to  beg 
'er  start  from  'em,  either;  I  borrowed  the 
money  from  your  grandfather  and  give  it  to 
'er  to  buy  her  way,  and  she  did  it.  And  she 
paid  that  money  back,  and  she  runs  this  place 
and  takes  keer  of  the  whole  family.  Oh ! 
Juletty  is  a  smart  geerl.  There's  just  one 
thing  troubles  me  about  it  all,  and  that  is,  I 
know  some  folks  has  thought  by  the  way  we 
had  money  that  I  was  reesponsible  for  that 
'licit  still.  I  reckon,  howsomever,  when  I 
offered  a  big  reward  for  the  Stiller  that  quieted 
'em.  I  didn't  blame  'em  any  ;  they  couldn't 
see  how  we  come  by  all  the  money,  and 
Juletty  wouldn't  tell  about  the  writin'." 
274 


The  Distiller  Receives  a  Life  Sentence 

I  was  indignant,  disgusted,  angry ;  how 
could  the  man  with  death  already  holding 
him  in  his  grasp  lie  so  unshrinkingly  and  so 
utterly  ?  While  I  wondered,  he  writhed  about 
so  as  to  look  into  my  face,  and  with  his  glaz- 
ing eyes  trying  to  read  my  thoughts  he  asked : 

"  Mr.  Burton,  you  ain't  never  thought  that 
of  me,  have  you  ?  " 

Thank  God  !  I  was  spared  the  misery  of  a 
response  to  his  pitiful  appeal  for  Juliet,  white 
and  trembling,  glided  between  us  and  bent 
over  her  father,  kissing  and  fondling  him  as 
women  do  sick  men  and  children. 

I  left  them  together  and  went  out  upon 
the  lawn,  where  I  paced  back  and  forth,  filled 
with  varied  thoughts  and  conjectures,  by 
which  I  tried  to  explain  to  myself  the  mar- 
vellous duplicity  of  the  old  man  who  lay  dying 
within  the  house.  Surely  he  must  know  that 
I  held  in  my  hands  every  proof  of  his  legal 
sin ;  why,  then,  would  he  continue  his  efforts 
to  deceive  me  when  he  saw  they  were  hope- 
less? I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  more  than 
once  the  unwelcome  fear  thrust  itself  into 
my  mind — what  sort  of  wife  would  the 
daughter  of  such  a  man  make  ? 
275 


Juletty 

Indignant  that  the  thought  should  even  have 
occurred  to  me,  I  put  it  away,  and  gladly  obeyed 
the  summons  to  return  to  the  sick-room. 

The  sufferer  had  broken  much  in  the  hour  of 
my  absence,  and  gray  shadows  had  gathered 
under  his  eyes,  but  he  smiled  as  he  placed 
Juliet's  hand  in  mine  and  told  me  of  her 
consent  to  please  him  in  regard  to  our  mar- 
riage. "  I  am  sinking  rapidly,"  he  whispered  ; 
"  it  must  be  to-day." 

Juliet  pressed  my  hand  and  murmured  :  "  We 
will  grant  his  every  wish  in  the  matter,  if  you 
please,  dear,  and  not  disappoint  him  in  the 
smallest  detail." 

The  quiet,  sad  preparations  were  hastened. 

My  own  and  Juliet's  nearest  relatives  were 
summoned,  and  soon  gathered  to  witness  the 
solemn  ceremony.  My  personal  arrangements 
were  so  simple  that  a  half  hour  before  the 
appointed  time  I  found  myself  ready,  and  idly 
waiting  in  my  room  for  the  lazy  hands  of  my 
watch  to  creep  to  the  right  minute,  when  Jim 
burst  in  to  say  his  Aunt  Juliet  wished  to  speak 
with  me  alone,  and  I  hurried  down  to  her. 

I  had  never  seen  my  love  so  excited,  and 
taking  both  her  hands,  I  tried  to  reassure  her  by 
276 


The  Distiller  Receives  a  Life  Sentence 

saying  there  was  nothing  to  dread — it  was  like 
having  a  tooth  out,  and  would  soon  be  over. 

She  laughed  nervously. 

"  No,  Jack,  it  is  not  that ;  you  do  not  under- 
stand." 

She  withdrew  her  hands,  and  turning,  leaned 
against  the  mantel ;  my  eyes  followed  her,  and 
lingered  lovingly  on  the  back  of  her  creamy 
neck,  caressed  by  tiny,  clinging  auburn  curls. 
A  curious  sensation  of  having  seen  just  such 
a  neck  and  just  such  auburn  curls  under  most 
peculiar  circumstances  before,  thrilled  me. 

"Jack,  I  heard  every  word  father  said  to 
you  last  night,  about  my  writing  and  my  big 
checks,  and  all  that." 

"  Yes,  my  darling ;  but  I  think  he  was  slightly 
delirious.  I  would  not  allow  that  to  trouble 
me  now"  I  said  comfortingly. 

"  He  thought  it  was  every  word  true,  Jack! " 

I  gasped  at  that  statement. 

" And  it  is  partly  true,"  she  went  on ;  "I  do 
write,  and  I  do  get  big  checks." 

I  had  lost  my  bearings  and  was  helplessly 
silent. 

"  James  told  me  all  about  that  raid  of  yours 
on  the  still-cave  last  night,  and  how  you  had 
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Juletty 

destroyed  everything,  and  how  he  had  ac- 
knowledged his  fault  to  you ;  but,  Jack,  there 
is  one  thing  he  did  not  tell,  and  that  is  the 
name  of  the  distiller.  You  think  my  father 
lied  to  you  last  night,  and  it  is  he  who  has 
done  all  this  illicit  work,  but  you  are  mistaken. 
You  have  not  found  the  guilty,  but  the 
innocent ! " 

"  Well,  well,"  I  said  soothingly,  honoring  her 
effort  to  defend  her  father  from  the  stigma  of 
his  guilt. 

"  I  am  no  longer  an  officer  of  the  law,  so  it 
is  no  matter  to  me  who  the  sinner  is." 

"  No  longer  an  officer !  Then  you  would 
not  be  compelled  to  make  arrests  though  you 
knew  positively  the  offender  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  under  no  farther  necessity  of 
that  sort." 

I  was  surprised  at  her  evident  disappoint- 
ment. 

Why  was  she  so  anxious  for  justice  thus  late  ? 

"  It  is  like  a  coward  to  confess  after  danger 
is  past,  is  it  not,  Jack  ?  " 

"  No,  dear;  it  is  always  brave  to  confess  a 
wrong,  and  always  cowardly  to  conceal  one." 

I  was  ashamed  of  it,  but  if  she  would  offer 
278 


The  Distiller  Receives  a  Life  Sentence 

another    name    I   would  be  glad  to  have  the 
stain  removed  from  my  intended  wife's  father. 

"  But  first  I  must  tell  you,  I  do  not  think 
you  have  been  so  dreadfully  stupid,  after 
all."  I  winced.  "  I  am  sure  you  would  have 
succeeded  in  your  still-hunt  long  ago  if  the 
stillers  had  not  been  thoroughly  prepared  for 
you.  I  was  in  the  little  Mount  Vernon  drug- 
store the  day  you  were  shot,  so  I  knew  your 
business,  and  laid  plans  to  foil  you  down  here." 

"  So,  so,  my  lady  of  the  auburn  lovelocks,  I 
have  you  and  Juliet  both  in  one,"  I  thought. 

"  But,  Jack,"  and  the  sweet  voice  had  taken 
on  a  little  quaver  of  appeal,  "  though  father  is 
innocent,  some  one  is  guilty.  What  must  be 
done  with  that  person  ?  There  must  be  some 
penalty  for  the  one  who  discovered  the  cave 
and  arranged  for  its  use,  and  who  conjured  up 
the  idea  of  shipping  the  horrid  stuff  on  the  old 
raft,  and  who — well,  who  in  short  did  everything 
but  the  manual  labor ;  that  person  is  guilty,  and 
must  be  punished.  Isn't  this  true,  Jack?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  yes  ;  the  man  who  did  all  that — 
wilfully  and  deliberately  plotting  to  defraud 
his  Government — is  a  criminaj,  and  certainly 
must  suffer  for  it." 

279 


Juletty 

Then  she  threw  up  her  proud  little  head,  and 
looked  at  me  squarely,  with  a  flash  of  her  Old 
Bourbon  eyes  that  dried  all  their  tears,  and 
said,  with  a  gleam  of  defiance  : 

"  Then,  Mr.  Jack  Burton,  you  may  arrest 
me  !  You  may  take  me  to  prison,  for  I  laid 
every  plan,  and  saw  with  my  own  eyes  that 
they  were  executed  properly  !  I  did  not  think 
it  wrong  then,  and  I  do  not  think  so  now — 
I— I " 

But  she  was  interrupted,  for  I  had  caught 
her  in  my  arms,  and  stopped  her  mouth  with 
kisses. 

/,  the  virtuous  officer,  who  had  almost  hesi- 
tated to  wed  the  daughter  of  a  lawbreaker. 

/clasped  the  real  culprit  close,  and  laughed 
at  the  thought  of  her  pluck  and  the  wisdom 
of  her  plans  for  evading  justice,  and  revelled 
in  the  bravery  of  her  final  confession. 

/  called  her  a  heroine,  and  my  brave  little 
darling,  and  said  how  proud  I  was  of  her, 
and  how  grieved  to  punish  her. 

But  grieved  though  I  was,  there  was  no 
escaping  it,  and  I  sentenced  her  to  captivity 
for  life — to  the  man  who  had  raided  her  'Licit 
Still. 

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